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llorf 


THE  ROSENHAGENS 


MAX     HALBE 


Richard   G.  Badger,    Publisher,    Boston 


UBRARY 

of  California 

IRVINE 


VOLUME  XXI  JANUARY— FEBRUARY,  1910  NUMBER  1 

THE  ROSENHAGENS* 

(A  Drama  in  Three  Acts) 

BY  MAX  HALBE 
Translated  by  Permission  of  the  /Author  by  Paul  H.  Grummann 

CHARACTERS  OF  THE  DRAMA 

CHRISTIAN  ROSENHAGEN,  estate  owner  at  Hohenau. 

KARL  EGON,  his  son. 

MADAM  ROSENHAGEN,  his  mother. 

MARTHA  REIMANN. 

HERMINE  DIESTERKAMP. 

FRITZ  DIESTERKAMP,  senior  in  the  gymnasium,  brother  of  Hermine. 

THOMAS  Voss,  land  owner  at  Hohenau. 

PASTOR  SIEBERT. 

DR.  NOWACK,  physician. 

WEGNER,  agent. 

RATHKE,  overseer  on  Rosenhagen's  estate. 

MINNIE,  servant. 

BUMKEWITSCH,  farm  hand. 

Three  other  farm  hands. 

Scene  of  drama:     Hohenau  estate. 

Time:  the  early  nineties.  The  first  act  takes  place  in  June,  the  last 
two  on  a  day  in  September,  the  former  in  the  forenoon,  the  latter  towards 
evening. 

*  Copyright,  1910,  by  Paul  H.  Grummann.     All  rights  reserved. 

Copyright,  1910,  by  The  Poet  Lore  Company.    All  rights  reserved. 

I 


2          A3ti  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

ft3f 

FIRST  ACT 

Large  hall  In  the  manor  house.  Two  doors  at  the  right  and  a  door 
at  the  left  lead  to  the  various  rooms.  In  the  middle  of  the  rear  wall,  there 
are  two  glass  doors,  through  which  one  passes  down  into  the  flower 
garden  over  large  stone  steps.  The  two  windows  to  the  right  and  left  of 
the  glass  doors  also  face  the  garden.  High  oak  cases,  brown  with  age, 
crowned  with  Delft  vases  are  ranged  along  the  side  walls.  A  table  with 
papers,  newspapers  and  writing  materials  stands  in  the  center  of  the  hall 
and  is  surrounded  by  chairs.  A  faded  sofa  against  the  front  part  of  the 
left  wall, — the  room  is  plain  and  austere,  but  the  white  curtains  and  the 
view  upon  the  garden  render  it  not  uninviting.  It  is  a  clear  spring  day  in 
the  middle  of  June.  The  two  folding  doors  of  the  rear  wall  are  opened 
wide.  One  looks  over  flower  beds  and  patches  of  turf  which  are  bordered 
farther  back  by  a  brook.  A  narrow  foot-bridge  connects  the  garden  with 
an  adjacent  meadow  lying  beyond,  past  which  the  eye  wanders  into  the 
distance  up  to  the  hazy,  blue  remote  chain  of  hills. 

Pastor  (in  suppressed  tones}. — So  the  doctor  has  been  called? 

Martha  (likewise}. — Why,  of  course,  Mr.  Siebert.  The  carriage 
has  been  gone  this  good  half  hour ! 

Pastor. — If  he  has  only  found  him  at  home! 

Martha. — You  can't  imagine,  Mr.  Siebert,  how  terribly  we  were 
frightened,  when  uncle  suddenly  groped  so  strangely,  fell  upon  a  chair,  was 
white  as  chalk  and  unable  to  utter  a  word,  and  just  panted.  (Shuddering.) 
I'll  not  forget  that  in  all  of  my  life ! 

Rathke  (approaching}. — Yes,  we  were  just  standing  together,  I  and 
Mr.  Rosenhagen  and  Miss  Reimann,  and  were  talking  about  something, 
and  of  course  got  to  talking  again  of  that  fellow  on  the  other  side  of  the 
mill  race.  (He  points  in  the  direction  beyond  the  brook.}  You  know,  don't 
you,  who  is  meant  by  that?  I  don't  have  to  take  much  time  to  explain  that 
to  you.  (He  points  again.} 

Pastor  (sighing  and  shaking  his  head}. — God  knows!  This  unfor- 
tunate quarrel  has  poisoned  my  whole  pastorate  here. 

Rathke. — Never  mind,  Mr.  Siebert,  that  is  more  than  ordinary  quar- 
reling, the  affair  of  the  two,  our  master  and  the  fellow  over  yonder,  Voss. 
That  is  war  to  the  death,  I  say  to  you,  in  which  each  one  grapples  for  the 
throat  of  the  other;  and  now  they  clutch  each  other,  and  it's  up  with  one  of 
them. 

Pastor  (retreats  a  step}. — God  help  me.    Are  these  men  Christians? 


MAX  HALBE  3 

Rathke  (after  a  moment}. — Have  you  ever  experienced  war,  Mr. 
Siebert,  real  war?  Do  you  know  what  it  means  when  a  company  of  militia 
is  expected  to  storm  a  French  village? 

Pastor  (somewhat  impatient). — In  one's  reading,  one  forms  a  con- 
ception of  that.  But  what  is  the  purpose  of  all  this? 

Rathke. — You  will  see  that  directly,  Mr.  Siebert.  You  know,  I  went 
through  that  a  dozen  times.  Then  the  command  is:  March,  march!  and 
all  men  storm  headlong!  And  now  pinch  up  your  eyes  and  throw  the 
enemy  back  and  take  one  place  after  another  and  after  it  is  all  over 

Pastor  (impatiently). — Well?     After  it  is  all  over? 

Rathke  (chuckles). — Yes,  after  it  is  all  over  ....  I  am  not  telling 
you  all  that  for  nothing,  Mr.  Siebert.  Now  imagine,  after  it  is  all  over, 
at  the  very  end  of  the  village  there  is  one  place  left;  in  it  the  enemy  has 
planted  himself,  from  it  they  shoot,  and  as  merrily  as  ever.  Say  for  your- 
self, Mr.  Siebert,  would  you  leave  that  house  to  the  enemy,  even  if  it  were 
built  a  little  stronger  than  the  rest  of  them,  and  were  a  little  harder  to 
take?  Would  you  just  let  the  enemy  keep  on  shooting  from  that  house? 

Pastor. — For  the  life  of  me,  I  don't  understand ! 

Rathke  (condescendingly). — You  see,  Mr.  Siebert,  the  enemy,  with 
whom  we  have  been  concerned,  our  master  and  I,  has  been  represented  by 
the  other  land  owners  that  have  been  here  in  the  village,  I  don't  know  how 
long.  All  of  these,  with  the  help  of  God  and  old  Nick,  we  slowly  froze  out 
and  put  out,  the  one  this  way,  the  other  that  way,  as  best  suited  the  case, 
but  they  all  had  to  go  !  (He  pauses  for  a  moment  and  strokes  his  beard.) 
All !  But  one !  You  know  well  enough,  but  that  one  on  the  other  side 
of  the  mill  race. 

Pastor  (excited). — And  Thomas  Voss  is  now  doomed  also?  The 
rope  has  been  knotted  for  his  gallows  also? 

Rathke  (quietly). — Just  so,  Mr.  Siebert.     Just  as  you  say. 

Pastor  (turns  around  on  his  heel). — Shame  on  you,  sir.  Do  be 
ashamed  of  yourself!  (He  takes  a  few  steps  angrily.) 

Rathke. — Mr.  Siebert,  whosoever  says  A,  must  also  say  B,  and  who- 
soever has  taken  a  whole  village  by  storm  cannot  leave  the  last  place  to 
the  enemy.  It  is  then  a  matter  of  so — or  so — ,  and  if  you  can  swallow  the 
rat,  you  will  also  be  able  to  swallow  its  tail. 

Martha  (impatiently  to  RATHKE,). — What  stuff  you  are  talking, 
Rathke.  Mr.  Siebert  must  get  a  fine  opinion  of  you.  And  of  uncle  also. 

Rathke. — Never  mind,  Miss.  That  is  all  settled  beforehand.  It's 
all  a  matter  of  have  to. 

Martha  (impetuously). — Believe  me,  Mr.  Siebert,  I  do  not  wish  to 


4  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

defend  my  uncle  at  all.  I  am  not  pleased  with  all  that  he  does  myself. 
But  what  is  a  poor  girl  to  do,  who  is  alone  in  the  world,  has  no  parents  and 
nothing  at  all?  One  depends  upon  his  relatives,  of  course.  It's  bad 
enough. 

Pastor  (steps  to  table  where  she  is). — Dear  Miss  Reimann,  no  one 
under  the  sun  is  reproaching  you. 

Martha. — Of  course,  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,  Mr.  Siebert, 
but  I  do  know  this  much,  old  man  Voss  isn't  an  angel  either.  I  imagine 
the  one  is  as  much  to  blame  as  the  other. 

Pastor. — No,  no,  Miss  Reimann,  the  blame  rests  entirely  with  your 
uncle.  Why,  I  have  had  to  witness  that  for  years,  and  have  been  unable 
to  hinder  it.  The  demon  of  greed  has  hunted  your  uncle  through  life. 
That  is  the  source  of  all  the  conflicts  which  he  has  had  with  his  fellow  men, 
the  innumerable  law  suits  which  have  aroused  so  much  vexation.  Greed 
for  land,  Miss  Reimann,  insatiable  greed  for  land,  that  is  the  serious 
reproach  which  I  must  level  at  your  uncle. 

Martha. — Then  indeed  it  must  be  something  of  a  family  trait,  Mr. 
Siebert.  I  am  also  pleased  when  I  see  all  of  the  beautiful  land  that  my 
uncle  has  acquired  in  his  life,  the  meadows  and  fields  and  all  the  rest.  I 
am  pleased  about  that,  even  if  I  shall  never  have  any  benefit  from  it,  and  I 
myself  am  poor  as  a  church  mouse. 

Pastor  (smiling). — With  you  it  is  an  entirely  different  matter,  you 
see,  dear  Miss  Reimann.  That  is  an  innocent  pleasure,  nothing  more. 

Martha  (strangely). — Do  not  say  that,  Mr.  Siebert.  I  can  easily 
imagine  how  that  can  take  hold  of  a  person.  That  must  come  like  rav- 
enous hunger like  ravenous  hunger.  He  who  has  always  sat  at  the 

the  table  of  strangers  and  has  always  eaten  the  bread  of  strangers,  can 
easily  imagine  that. 

Pastor  (has  become  serious,  looks  at  her  penetratingly). — Then  I 
advise  you,  Miss  Reimann,  curb  the  demon  in  your  breast !  Curb  it. 

Martha  (lightly). — O  dear  me,  Mr.  Pastor,  it  will  probably  not  be 
so  very  serious.  I'll  not  even  get  into  the  embarrassing  position  at  all. 

Pastor  (zealously). — Tell  me  yourself,  Miss  Reimann,  and  you,  Mr. 
Rathke,  what  has  Christian  Rosenhagen  had  of  all  this? 

Rathke  (in  a  matter  of  fact  way). — He  has  become  a  rich  man,  Mr. 
Siebert. 

Pastor  (somewhat  nervous). — Good,  yes!  But  what  has  he  staked 
for  it? 

Rathke. — I  do  say,  Mr.  Siebert,  the  only  thing  that  comes  free  of 
charge  is  death.  And  even  that  is  not  true,  one  pays  his  life  for  it. 


• 


MAX  HALBE  5 

Pastor  (has  taken  several  steps}. — Didn't  you  yourself  say  a  while 
ago,  that  the  paralytic  stroke  or  whatever  it  may  be,  the  misfortune,  that 
it  happened  in  the  midst  of  a  conversation  about  your  neighbor? 

Rathke. — That  may  be,  all  right  enough,  Mr.  Siebert. 

Pastor  (quizzically). — And  the  conversation,  to  judge  by  the  dis- 
position of  Mr.  Rosenhagen,  was  not  calm. 

Rathke. — Nope,  it  wasn't  calm.  Not  a  bit  calm.  We  were  just 
speaking  of  the  meadow  land  that  you  see  there  on  the  other  side  of  the 
mill  race  (he  points  beyond  the  brook),  where  the  foot  bridge  leads 
across.  As  you  know,  the  whole  piece  belongs  to  him  over  there,  it  is  his 
best  meadow  land,  without  it  he  cannot  subsist,  and  if  he  is  deprived  of 
that,  then  he  can  go  and  pack  up.  We  were  just  speaking  of  that,  and 
Mr.  Rosenhagen  became  terribly  excited. 

Pastor. — Terribly  excited!     Just  so. 

Martha. — Yes,  because  uncle  said  that  the  meadow  land  didn't  belong 
to  Voss  at  all,  that  it  rightfully  belongs  to  the  village. 

Pastor. — And  since  the  village  now  belongs  to  your  uncle,  then  the 
meadow  also Oh!  (He  turns  away.) 

Martha  (shrugging  her  shoulders). — Why,  I  am  only  telling  what 
uncle  says.  It  doesn't  concern  me,  of  course.  What  is  the  meadow  land 
to  me? 

Rathke  (disapprovingly). — Do  not  say  that,  Miss  Reimann;  we 
could  make  very  good  use  of  the  meadow,  and  now  it  is  only  in  our  way 
and  only  occasions  us  loss.  The  master  is  quite  right  there. 

Pastor. — So  that  idea  is  really  spooking  about  in  the  heads  of  these 
people? 

Rathke. — So  it  is,  Mr.  Siebert.  And  the  idea  is  not  half  bad.  For 
this  much  is  certain,  the  meadow  land  was  seized  by  the  Vosses  in  the  days 
of  Olim  under  Napoleon,  when  the  whole  village  had  died  out.  It  was 
formerly  a  village  common,  and  when  afterwards  the  French  were  gone 
again,  and  no  one  any  longer  paid  attention  to  it,  the  Vosses  simply  kept 
it  as  their  own.  That  is  sure  as  shooting,  as  certain  as  twice  two  are 
four,  only  Mr.  Rosenhagen  cannot  prove  it  yet,  black  on  white,  but  it 
probably  will  come  out  all -right. 

Pastor  (interrupting). — And  so  you  were  talking  about  that? 

Rathke. — Yes,  and  Mr.  Rosenhagen  struck  the  table  and  pointed  over 
to  the  meadow  and  cried  out :  "Right  forever  is  right,  the  meadow  belongs 
to  the  village  and  I'll  kill  off  that  fellow  over  there!"—  And  at  that 
moment (He  pauses  and  is  silent.) 


6  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Pastor. — At  that  moment  a  Higher  One  raised  his  hand  and  cut  short 
the  days  of  Mr.  Rosenhagen  before  his  time. 

Rathke. — Well,  he's  not  quite  that  far  along,  Mr.  Siebert;  you  know 
Mr.  Rosenhagen  is  still  alive. 

Pastor  (animated}. — Yes,  thank  God.  It  is  not  too  late  even  now. 
But  is  it  not  food  for  thought  that  Christian  Rosenhagen  had  to  fall  at 
the  time  when  he  wanted  to  bring  about  the  fall  of  another?  Isn't  that 
food  for  thought? 

Rathke. — Well,  Mr.  Siebert,  one  may  explain  that  as  he  pleases. 

Pastor. — You  and  Mr.  Rosenhagen,  my  dear  Mr.  Rathke,  have  sown 
hatred  and  have  reaped  revenge !  It  is  my  task  now  to  exterminate  the 
weeds  and  to  establish  peace !  You  know,  Miss  Reimann,  for  years  I  have 
avoided  entering  the  house  of  your  uncle. 

Martha. — And  I  was  always  very  sorry  about  that,  Mr.  Siebert. 

Pastor. — Today  I  came  here  in  response  to  the  first  call Yes, 

I  should  have  come  even  without  your  call,  for  I  am  pursuing  a  definite 
plan. 

Martha. — So?  Why,  what  is  that,  Mr.  Siebert?  May  I  take  the 
liberty  of  asking? 

Pastor. — I  am  pursuing  the  plan  of  reconciling  your  uncle  with 
Thomas  Voss. 

Rathke. — I  tell  you  that  will  be  a  stiff  piece  of  work,  Mr.  Siebert. 

Pastor. — I  am  counting  upon  the  help  of  the  Highest.  Is  the  son 
with  his  sick  father? 

Martha. — Yes,  Karl  is  with  him,  and  grandmother. 

Pastor. — Then,  with  God's  help,  take  me  in. 

Martha  (points  forward  to  the  right}. — I  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Siebert, 
will  you  come  through  the  blue  room  here? 

(  The  front  door  at  the  right  is  opened.} 

Karl  Egon  (appears  in  the  door}. — How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Siebert? 
(Extends  his  hand  to  him.} 

Pastor  (shaking  his  hand}. — God's  own  greetings,  my  dear  Mr. 
Rosenhagen.  God's  own  greetings ! 

Karl  Egon  (seriously}. — I  thank  you  for  coming,  Mr.  Siebert. 
Father  already  has  a  great  desire  to  see  you. 

Pastor. — I  am  glad  with  all  my  heart. 

Karl  Egon. — Much  is  running  through  his  mind.  You  will  scarcely 
recognize  him. 


MAX  HALBE  7 

Pastor  (in  joyous  excitement}. — Come,  my  dear  friend.  (He  draws 
him  out  through  the  half-opened  door  at  the  right.} 

Karl  Egon  (following  him}. — Through  the  blue  room  here,  Mr. 
Siebert.  Father  is  in  his  room.  (  They  go  out.} 

Rathke  (approaching  again}. — Such  a  wiseacre,  such  a  wiseacre  1 

Martha. — Why,  how  did  the  poor  pastor  harm  you,  Rathke  ? 

Rathke. — I  cannot  bear  this  everlasting  establishing  of  peace. 

Martha  (has  stepped  to  the  rear,  looks  through  the  doors  into  the 
distance  beyond  the  garden} . — How  blue  the  Liebschau  heights  look  today. 
Just  see,  very  dark  blue,  the  woods  over  there  I 

Rathke. — Sign  of  rain.  I've  been  feeling  it  for  some  time  in  my 
bones.  This  fine  haying  weather  will  probably  come  to  an  end  soon. 
We'll  hurry  up  and  try  to  get  some  more  in,  or  else  it  will  all  rot  on  a 
fellow's  hands  again. 

Martha  (inhaling}. — The  pinks  are  also  more  fragrant  than  usual. 
There  is  a  sultriness  in  the  air. 

Rathke. — Yes,  a  thunder  storm  or  rain,  something  or  other  is  coming. 

Martha  (looks  out  into  the  garden}. — The  lilacs,  too,  have  already 
finished  blooming. 

Rathke. — Why,  of  course,  we  are  fast  approaching  St.  John's  day. 
What  would  you  expect,  Miss !  Why,  the  rye  is  almost  beginning  to  head. 

Martha. — Another  spring  past!  Another!  (Sighs,  takes  a  few 
steps,  then  after  a  short  pause,  somewhat  suppressed.}  What  is  your 
opinion,  Rathke?  (She  points  to  the  right.}  Do  you  think  uncle  will 
get  on  his  feet  once  more? 

Rathke. — I  should  say,  Miss,  I  don't  think  much  of  this  peace  busi- 
ness. His  sending  for  the  pastor;  that's  a  bad  sign.  A  darned  bad  sign. 
It  will  soon  be  up  with  him. 

Martha  (suppressed}. — And  then? 

Rathke. — Well,  then  the  young  man  of  course  will  get  the  estate. 

Martha  (mysteriously}. — And  then  what? 

Rathke. — And  what  would  you  suppose  then?  Then  probably  the 
young  man  will  some  day  think  of  marrying. 

Martha  (as  before}. — Yes,  I  think  so  too. 

Rathke  (slyly}. — Then  we'll  get  a  young  woman  into  the  household 
again. 

Martha. — Yes,  yes,  a  young  woman ! 

Rathke  (continuing}. — And  she  will  look  like  you,  Miss,  and  have 
the  same  name. 

Martha. — Like  me?     Goodness!     What  you  do  imagine! 


8  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Rathke. — Aha,  one  has  his  own  notions  of  such  matters. 

Martha  (becomes  attention) . — And  I  tell  you,  that  will  never  happen 

in  the  world.  Never! Never! (Short  silence.)  Do  you 

still  recall  Hermine  Diesterkamp,  Rathke? 

Rathke. — From  Danzig? Well,  do  I!  I  always  lifted  her 

on  her  horse  when  she  was  here  during  vacation.  But  soon  she  did  not 
need  me  at  all  any  more.  She  could  ride  like  old  Nick  himself. 

Martha  (bitterly). — Probably  that  is  a  strain  of  her  mother's  blood. 
She  is  said  to  have  been  something  like  a  circus  rider. 

Rathke. — Yes,  indeed,  it  caused  a  great  hubbub  at  that  time  in  Danzig, 
when  rich  Diesterkamp  got  himself  one  of  these  von  Salamonskies  from 
the  circus.  An  infernal  hubbub.  (He  chuckles.) 

Martha. — She  had  come  from  Russia,  hadn't  she? 

Rathke. — Yes,  somewhere  around  there.  She  was  a  darned  pretty 
creature.  I  often  saw  her.  Mrs.  Rosenhagen  and  Mrs.  Diesterkamp 
came  and  went  often.  Mr.  Rosenhagen  didn't  care  a  fig  for  what  the 
people  had  to  say.  As  I  look  back  at  those  times,  there  was  quite  a  gay 
life  in  this  house,  until  the  two  Diesterkamps  died,  one  soon  after  the  other, 
first  she  and  then  he.  Well,  and  then  Mrs.  Rosenhagen,  she  soon  followed 
as  you  know.  And  then  it  became  quiet  in  this  house. 

Martha  (reflecting). — Yes,  a  short  time  after  that  uncle  took  me 
into  his  house  to  look  after  the  household  and  such  matters. 

Rathke. — How  the  time  passes!  They  also  have  been  lying  under 
the  earth  eight  or  ten  years  at  least. 

Martha  (starting  up  from  her  meditation). — A  moment  ago  you 
spoke  of  the  young  woman  who  will  come  into  the  household.  If  you  want 
to  know  how  she  will  look,  then  think  of  Hermine  Diesterkamp  whom  you 
lifted  upon  her  horse. 

Rathke  (with  lips  apart). — It  ain't  possible!     I  say,  you  are  joking! 

Martha  (bitterly). — Do  I  look  as  if  I  felt  like  joking? 

Rathke  (blurting  out). — But  what  will  become  of  you  then,  Miss? 
You  surely  can't  stay  here  then? 

Martha  (smiling). — Do  you  think  so? 

Rathke. — No,  of  course  that  won't  do  ?  You  and  the  young  woman. 
And  the  old  woman  is  also  here  yet.  No — nope ! 

Martha. — Well,  I  will  just  go  somewhere  else  then.  The  world  is 
large,  isn't  it? 

Rathke. — But  you  haven't  a  single  person  in  all  the  world? 

Martha. — A  person  in  my  position  will  manage  to  get  on  some  how. 
I  am  accustomed  to  it,  am  I  not? 


MAX  HALBE  9 

Karl  Egon  (opens  the  front  door  at  the  right,  enters,  and  looks 
about). — And  isn't  the  doctor  here  yet?l 

Rathke. — I'll  go  and  look  on  the  pike.  May  be  the  carriage  can  be 
heard  now! 

Karl  Egon. — Anything  doing  on  the  place?     Anything  to  report? 

Rathke. — Everything  in  order,  sir.  The  laborers  are  raking  up  the 
hay,  tomorrow  we  can  haul  it  in. 

Karl  Egon. — Have  you  sent  the  mowers  in  the  clover  fields? 

Rathke. — Yes,  some  to  the  field  near  the  dam  and  some  to  the  Lieb- 
schau  Cut. 

Karl  Egon. — Good.     And  what  of  the  beet  girls? 

Rathke. — Oh,  the  wenches.  Why,  they  are  as  lazy  as  drones.  They 
beat  the  Lord  himself  out  of  his  time.  Regular  Polish  lubbers ! 

Karl  Egon  (laughing,  to  MARTHA). — He  has  it  in  for  the  girls. 
Especially  the  Polish  ones.  You  have  probably  had  bad  experiences, 
Rathke,  how? 

Rathke. — The  devil  take  all  of  the  darned  women!  (He  goes  in 
through  the  door  at  the  right,  but  turns  around  once  more.)  I  had  for- 
gotten; Wegner  was  here  a  while  ago  and  inquired  about  old  Mr.  Rosen- 
hagen. 

Karl  Egon  ( absent  minded) . — Wegner  ?     What  Wegner  ? 

Rathke. — Well,  the  one  from  Danzig.  The  one  who  formerly  had 
the  property  here,  that  Mr.  Rosenhagen  bought  of  him  eighteen  or  twenty 
years  ago,  or  so.  You  know  him,  don't  you? 

Karl  Egon. — Slightly!  Yes!  The  agent  or  whatever  he  may  be. 
What  in  the  world  does  he  want? 

Rathke. — He  has  something  very  important,  he  says. 

Karl  Egon. — Then  understand  that  you  are  to  send  him  in  when  he 
comes  back. 

Rathke  (listening). — Now  I  hear  something  rolling  on  the  pike. 

Karl  Egon. — It  is  to  be  hoped  that  it  is  the  doctor. 

Rathke  (going  out). — I'll  go  quickly  and  open  the  gate.  (Goes  out 
through  the  rear  at  the  right.) 

(MARTHA  has  stood  in  the  background  during  the  preceding  conver- 
sation and  has  looked  dreamily  into  the  garden.) 

Karl  Egon  (steps  up  to  her,  lays  his  hand  on  her  shoulder) . — So  quiet, 
sister  Martha? 

Martha  (slightly  startled). — It  is  you? 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  who  else  should  it  be? 

Martha  (smiling). — Who  else! 


io  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Karl  Eg  on. — Somebody  is  dreaming? 

Martha   (preoccupied}. — Somebody  is  dreaming! 

Karl  Eg  on. — Of  happiness  and  love  and  great  deeds,  how? 

Martha. — Yes,  of  that  which  is  never  to  be. 

Karl  Eg  on  (lively). — What's  that! 

Martha. — Possibly  for  you! 

Karl  Egon. — I  should  hope  so.     Great  Scott ! 

Martha. — But  not  for  me ! 

Karl  Egon  (absent  minded). — Well,  just  wait  till  the  proper  man 
comes. 

Martha  (strangely). — The  proper  man  will  not  come,  that  is  all. 

Karl  Egon  (pensively). — I  tell  you,  Martha,  I  am  in  a  strange  frame 
of  mind.  I  see  father  is  ill.  I  must  be  prepared  for  anything. 

Martha. — Do  you  really  think  so? 

Karl  Egon. — I  myself  do  not  know.  It  is  possible,  after  all,  that  all 
will  turn  out  well  again.  But  he  has  never  been  so  very  strong.  And 
then  he  has  had  much  to  stew  and  worry  about.  Now  he  is  fretting  about 
that.  Do  you  know,  he  reminds  me  of  one  sitting  before  his  ledger  and 
balancing  accounts.  Well,  and  on  such  occasions  many  an  item  turns  up 
that  is  not  quite  O.  K.,  and  he  is  sweating  over  that  at  present. 

Martha. — I  suppose  that  is  the  reason  why  he  called  for  the  pastor? 

Karl  Egon. — Certainly Certainly!  I  believe  that  it  is  a 

relief  for  him  to  unburden  his  mind  freely  for  once.  To  me  he  cannot  do 
that,  as  you  know.  We  have  always  remained  strangers  to  each  other 
after-  all. 

Martha. — You  two  are  so  different. 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  and  with  all,  I  have  cared  much  for  him.  In  my 
inmost  soul.  That  is  the  strange  thing  about  my  condition.  I  cannot 
grasp  the  thought,  that  some  time  he  will  be  no  more.  And  at  the  same 
time at  the  same  time !  (He  breaks  of  as  if  frightened  at  himself.) 

Martha. — Do  tell  me,  Karl.     Come  sit  down  with  me. 

Karl  Egon. — No,  just  let  me  walk  to  and  fro.  I  feel  as  if  a  fever 
infested  me.  I  must  walk. 

Martha   (resigned). — As  you  please. 

(Short  pause.) 

Karl  Egon  (walking  to  and  fro). — See  here,  Martha,  I  am  twenty- 
five  years  old  now  and  yet,  until  at  present,  I  have  had  neither  goal  nor 
any  purpose  in  the  world  whatsoever. 

Martha.— Why,  Karl! 


MAX  HALBE  n 

Karl  Egon. — Of  course,  I  have  done  what  they  all  do.  I  have 
finished  my  school  period,  have  prepared  for  agriculture,  theoretically  and 
practically,  have  finished  my  semesters  at  the  university;  that  is  all  well 
and  good.  I  have  also  looked  around  out  in  the  world  and  have  been 
able  to  weigh  values.  That  was  even  the  best  of  it  all.  I  am  indebted  for 
all  that  to  my  father.  He  allowed  me  an  absolutely  free  hand  in  all  that. 
I  have  been  able  to  do  whatsoever  I  have  desired  to  do.  But  what  do  you 
yourself  say:  Can  that  fill  out  one's  life  in  the  long  run?  Is  one  to 
allow  all  that  one  has  thus  learned  and  hoarded  up  to  lie  fallow  for  half 
of  one's  life? 

Martha. — But  you  do  not  need  to  do  that  at  all.  You  certainly  have 
enough  to  do  1 

Karl  Egon. — No,  that  is  just  the  thing  that  I  haven't.  I  am  always 
only  the  second  man.  I  must  subordinate  myself  to  father,  and  that  I  can- 
not do,  nor  will  I.  My  ideas  are  too  different  from  his  to  do  that.  I  have 
seen  far  too  much  of  the  world  to  do  that.  And  so  I  prefer  to  do  nothing 
at  all,  and  simply  put  my  hands  into  my  pockets.  But  when  I  think  of  it, 
that  all  that  may  continue  God  knows  how  long,  that  this  state  of  affairs 
is  to  remain .  Terrible!  Terrible!  Do  you  comprehend  that? 

Martha. — Yes,  I  understand  that  well.  I  know  what  it  means  when 
a  person  has  just  no  hope  at  all! 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  and  for  that  reason  the  fever  is  now  getting  into 
my  blood,  as  I  think  of  the  future.  (Has  turned  on  his  heel.}  When  I 
say  to  myself,  possibly  you  will  become  master  sooner  than  you  have 
expected,  after  all !  .  .  .  .  So !  Now  you  know  how  I  feel ! 

Martha. — Possibly  I  know  still  more. 

Karl  Egon  (surprised). — Still  more? 

Martha  (softly). — I  know  of  whom  you  are  always  thinking,  when 
you  are  dreaming  of  your  future. 

Karl  Egon  (smiling). — Well,  of  whom  do  you  suppose,  you  little 
clairvoyant  ? 

Martha  (calmly). — Have  you  tidings  from  her?  Of  course,  you  are 
corresponding  with  each  other? 

Karl  Egon. — Just  see,  how  clever  and  wise  you  are. 

'Martha. — What  else,  pray,  can  I  do? 

Karl  Egon  (serious  again). — Yes,  we  have  been  courting  since  a  year 
ago,  when  we  saw  each  other  for  the  last  time  in  Switzerland. 

Martha. — Where  in  the  world  is  she  now?  Still  abroad  in  the 
world  ? 


12  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  now  here,  now  there.  Her  last  letter  I  received 
from  Munich. 

Martha  (after  a  moment}. — Doesn't  she  ever  have  a  longing  for  the 
old  home? 

Karl  Egon  (with  animation) . — Home!  Home!  That  is  just  it.  She 
has  found  her  home  out  there.  I  cannot  even  blame  her  for  that.  You 
know  well  enough  how  the  people  around  here  cast  stones  at  her  parents. 

Martha. — But  if  she  really  likes  you,  she  must  surely  yearn  for  you. 
Why  doesn't  she  at  least  pay  a  visit  some  time? 

Karl  Egon. — Well,  that  will  come  about.  At  the  very  latest,  next 
fall. 

Martha  (mechanically). — Aha.     Next  fall. 

Karl  Egon  (steps  up  before  her). — Do  you  know,  Martha,  I  am 
going  to  confide  something  else  to  you. 

Martha  (anxiously). — Well,  what  is  it?     Do  not  frighten  a  person! 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  you  will  be  surprised.  I  was  going  to  say,  that  I 
have  been  intending  to  go  away. 

Martha  (frightened). — Go  away? For  good? 

Karl  Egon. — As  one  looks  at  it.  Possibly  for  good.  At  any  rate 
I  wanted  to  go  out  into  the  world. 

Martha. — To  her? To  Hermine? 

Karl  Egon. — Together  with  her,  yes ! 

Martha. — And  what  would  your  father  have  said  to  that? 

Karl  Egon  (excited). — Goodness,  don't  you  hear?  I  was  not  able 
to  stand  this  condition  here  any  longer.  This  inactivity!  This  mere 
having  to  look  on !  I  have  longed  to  be  out  in  life,  as  the  fish  longs  to  be, 
in  fresh  water. 

Martha  (oppressed). — And  now? 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  now  of  course,  the  affair  looks  different.  Now  I 
shall  hardly  be  able  to  get  away. 

Martha  (almost  craftily). — And  probably  you  will  bring  Hermine 
here  then?  Do  you  suppose  that  she  will  stand  it  here,  spoiled  as  she  is, 
that  she  will  really  remain  here? 

Karl  Egon. — That  really  goes  without  saying. 

(Short  pause.) 

Martha. — Do  me  a  favor,  Karl,  will  you? 

Karl  Egon. — Well,  what  is  it? 

Martha. — Show  me  her  picture.     Of  course  you  have  it  with  you? 

Karl  Egon  (smiling). — How  do  you  know? 


MAX  HALBE  13 

Martha. — You  have  it  with  you.     Don't  fib  to  me. 

Karl  Egon. — You  two  have  been  acquainted  since  the  old  days. 

Martha. — Yes,  but  how  long  that  has  been.     At  least  five  years. 

Karl  Eaon. — Yes,  when  she  went  to  boarding  school  at  Geneva.  She 
was  sixteen  then. 

Martha. — Show  me  her  picture.     I  beg  you! 

Karl  Eaon. — You  stubborn  creature!  (He  takes  a  photograph  out 
of  his  pocket.) 

Martha. — I  should  like  to  know  whether  her  eyes  still  have  that  same 
expression. 

Karl  Eaon  (gives  her  the  picture). — If  you  absolutely  wish  to  see 
it Now  say  for  youself,  isn't  she  beautiful? 

(MARTHA  looks  at  it  in  silence.) 

Karl  Eaon. — Isn't  that  marvelously  beautiful? As  if  it  were 

taken  from  some  fairy  tale? 

Martha. — Yes,  yes,  why,  certainly. 

Karl  Eaon. — Well,  now  then? 

Martha. — She  has  really  grown  very  pretty!     And  yet ! 

Karl  Eaon. — Oh,  the  womanish  jealousy! 

Martha. — I  don't  know,  the  expression  in  her  eyes 

Karl  Eaon. — Why,  what  fault  can  you  find  with  those  eyes?  They 
are  indeed  the  most  beautiful  part  of  her  face ! 

Martha. — There  is  something  about  them 

Karl  Eaon. — Oh,  come,  you  are  petty. 

Martha. — There  is  something  dangerous  about  them ! 

Karl  Egon. — Who  is  afraid?     Danger  attracts  me! 

Martha. — Karl!     Karl!     Be  on  your  guard  against  those  eyes! 

Karl  Egon  ( out  of  humor) . — Give  it  back  to  me  ! In  that  matter, 

after  all,  all  women  are  alike ! 

Martha. — They  are  something  like  nixie's  eyes, — they  are  said  to 
indicate  misfortune.  (She  gives  him  the  picture.) 

Karl  Egon. — Fortune  or  misfortune,  we  all  do  what  we  are  compelled 
to  do.  (He  looks  at  the  picture.)  Dearest,  dearest  one! 

(The  rear  door  at  the  right  is  opened.) 

(MADAM  ROSENHAGEN  hobbles  through  the  door  leaning  on  her 
cane.) 

Martha  (quickly). — Put  the  picture  away,  Karl!  Grandma  is 
coming. 


i4  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  how  so?  Do  I  need  to  be  ashamed  of  this 
picture? 

Martha  (embarrassed}. — I  only  thought! 

Karl  Egon  (while  he  slowly  puts  the  picture  back  into  his  pocket}. — 
Did  you  see  Dr.  Nowack,  grandmother?  Is  he  here? 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (approaching} . — Why  shouldn't  I  see  him,  when 
he  was  standing  before  me  big  as  life?  Do  you  suppose  I  am  blind?  Now 
don't  get  any  foolish  notions !  I  can  still  look  through  an  oak  plank. 

Karl  Egon. — Then  indeed  I  will  at  once 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Yes,  I  lost  no  time  in  getting  out!  I  get  sick 
at  the  stomach  when  I  see  a  doctor ! 

Pastor  (steps  in  through  the  door  at  the  right  which  is  still  half  open. 
He  is  in  a  hurry  and  is  beaming  with  happiness}. — I  am  hastening,  my 
dearest  Mrs.  Rosenhagen.  I  am  hastening.  One  must  strike  blocks  of 
iron  and  human  hearts  when  they  are  warm. 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  where  are  you  going  in  such  a  hurry,  Mr.  Siebert? 

Pastor  (already  in  the  center  of  the  hall}. — Over  to  Thomas  Voss! 
In  a  few  minutes,  God  being  willing,  I  hope  to  bring  him  over  here.  Every 
moment  is  precious  now! 

Karl  Egon  (with  animation}. — So  you  have  succeeded? 

Pastor. — Yes,  he  consents.  The  hard  shell  has  melted!  Before  it 
is  evening,  the  two  old  enemies  shall  have  become  reconciled. 

Karl  Egon. — And  do  you  believe  that  Voss  will  come  along  without 
further  difficulty? 

Pastor. — Why,  certainly !  Quite  certainly !  Don't  you  suppose  that 
I  know  my  men? 

Karl  Egon. — Well,  I  shall  be  glad  of  that.  As  you  know,  in  this  case, 
I  am  also  in  favor  of  peace !  To  be  sure,  in  favor  of  honorable  peace ! 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (has  sat  down  on  a  chair  at  the  table}. —  I 
always  have  said,  you  are  a  bit  off  color !  As  far  as  I  can  think  back,  the 
Rosenhagens  have  been  in  favor  of  war,  never  in  favor  of  peace !  You 
are  the  first  one  that  goes  at  it  the  other  way. 

Pastor  (already  on  the  top  tread  of  the  steps,  turns  around  once 
more}. — Good-bye,  my  dear  people,  till  my  immediate  return. 

Karl  Egon  (calls  after  him}. — Straight  through  the  garden,  Mr. 
Siebert !  Over  the  foot-bridge  and  then  to  the  right. 

(PASTOR  still  beckons  to  him  from  the  garden,  then  disappears  over 
the  foot-bridge  to  the  right.} 

Karl  Egon  (approaches  again  from  the  rear,  smiling}. — Am  I  really 
so  much  off  color,  grandmother? 


MAX  HALBE  15 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Yes,  you  are.  You  are  of  the  new  fangled 
kind  on  whom  one  never  can  count  definitely. 

Karl  Eg  on  (smiles  again}. — Don't  say  that,  grandmother!  Do  not 
say  that  I  I  can  go  through  thick  and  thin,  if  it  ever  becomes  necessary. 

Martha. — Yes,  I  also  believe  that! 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — What  does  your  opinion  amount  to? 

Karl  Egon. — Moreover,  you  yourself  encouraged  father  to  become 
reconciled  with  Voss. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — But  I  am  an  old  woman  and  have  all  of  these 
matters  behind  me  long  ago !  I  tell  you,  you  ought  to  have  seen  me  fifty 
years  ago. 

Karl  Egon  (smiling}. — Dear  me!  fifty  years  ago! 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Yes,  then  you  were  all  still  in  the  stork's  pond. 
Isn't  that  so,  Martha? 

Martha  (smiling,  preoccupied}. — Why,  of  course;  /  don't  know, 
grandma  I 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — She  don't  know!  She  don't  know!  You  are 
right,  Miss.  In  the  windup  the  worms  will  eat  us  any  how? 

Karl  Egon. — But  I  must  look  and  see  how  matters  stand  over  there 
and  what  the  doctor  says.  (He  hastens  out  through  the  front  door  at  the 
right.} 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (to  MARTHA,  who  still  sits  there  dreaming}. — 
Well,  what  is  the  matter  with  you,  Rosalind?  You  are  making  a  face  as 
if  all  of  your  yarn  had  floated  away.  I  suppose  you  have  some  fellow  on 
your  brain? 

Martha  (startled}. — How  you  do  talk,  grandma! 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — I  know  well  enough  whom !  You  might  as 
well  stop  dissembling!  (She  beckons  to  the  right  significantly.} 

Martha  (blushing,  gets  up}. — Nonsense,  grandma!  Nonsense! 
(She  hurries  to  the  rear  door  at  the  right.} 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (calls  after  her}. — Then  see  that  you  keep  at 
it !  Or  the  other  one,  Hermine,  may  come  and  get  ahead  of  you ! 

Martha  (already  in  the  door,  she  thrusts  her  head  in  once  more}. — 
Nonsense!  Nonsense!  Nonsense!  Nonsense!  (Off  quickly.) 

(At  the  right  in  front  KARL  EGON  re-enters  with  DR.  NOWACK.) 

Karl  Egon. — So  quite  frankly,  doctor,  immediate  danger  is  not  at 
hand? 

Dr.  Nowack. — N -,  not  exactly  immediate  danger!  But  you  know 

one  isn't  on  the  inside  of  such  a  thing,  especially  when  the  trouble  is  as 


1 6  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

deep  seated  as  in  this  case!  That  is  the  old  belief  of  the  layman.  A 
physician  is  expected  to  be  omniscient.  Babble !  When  all  is  said  and 
done,  we  also  can  only  conjecture. 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (brings  her  cane  down  with  a  thud}. — That,  for 
once,  is  still  a  true  statement.  You  deserve  a  cross  of  honor  for  that.  In 
other  respects  lying,  after  all,  is  your  daily  bread! 

Dr.  Nowack. — Now  you  be  nice  and  quiet,  grandma !  I'll  get  you 
under  my  thumb,  too,  some  day,  after  all. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — God  protect  me !  I  have  never  needed  a 
doctor  and  have  become  ninety-three  years  old. 

Dr.  Nowack  (sarcastically}. — Possibly  just  for  that  reason! 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (laughing}. — Do  you  see,  you  are  not  at  all  as 
stupid  as  you  look!  Do  you  know  what  you  once  prophesied  to  me? 

Dr.  Nowack. — N ,  don't  remember. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — I  should  yet  survive  my  whole  family,  that  is 
what  you  prophesied  to  me. 

Dr.  Nowack  (again  sarcastically}. — Well,  then!  My  dear,  what 
more  do  you  wish? 

Karl  Egon. — Could  that  really  have  so  much  of  a  charm  for  you, 
grandma  ? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — You  doubt  it?  I  am  going  to  wait  until  the 
Day  of  Judgment,  and  when  the  trumpets  blow  I'll  take  a  special  post- 
chaise  with  four  horses  and  drive  to  the  devil's  grandmother ! And  if 

the  doctor  wishes  to,  he  may  keep  me  company. 

Dr.  Nowack. — Thanks  for  the  kind  invitation.  We  should  get  on 
quite  well  together.  Do  you  remember  the  time,  grandmother,  when  we 
spoke  of  the  worlds  up  there,  of  Jupiter  and  Mars  and  all  the  rest? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Yes,  and  that  there  are  human  beings  in  a 
sense  like  ourselves,  only  doubly  as  clever,  and  that  they  can  fly.  I  should 
like  well  enough  to  take  a  hand  at  that  some  time.  That  would  be  a 
change,  you  know! 

Dr.  Nowack. — Well,  then  we  can  fly  together  over  there  for  a  while. 

Karl  Egon  (who  has  listened  somewhat  impatiently}. — I  was  going 
to  say,  Doctor,  let  me  revert  once  more  to  your  directions  in  regard  to 
father. 

Dr.  Nowack. — I  have  written  out  all  that  is  necessary.  The  prescrip- 
tion is  in  the  patient's  room.  Whether  or  not  it  will  do  any  good,  is  an- 
other question. 

Karl  Egon. — It  is  to  be  hoped  I 


MAX  HALBE  17 

Dr.  Nowack. — N ,  I  can't  say  that  I  have  much  hope.  What 

are  you  going  to  do  with  a  clock  that  is  completely  worn  out? 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  father  isn't  so  old  yet. 

Dr.  Nowack. — Clocks  vary,  that  is  all.  And  then  much  depends 
upon  how  one  has  put  them  to  it.  You  repair  what  can  still  be  repaired, 
but  you  don't  risk  giving  a  guarantee. 

Karl  Egon  (suppressed}. — Are  matters  really  that  bad? 

Dr.  Nowack. — Yes!  Why  should  I  deceive  you?  You  see 

(He  points  to  the  grandmother.}  That  is  a  different  kind  of  a  clock.  That 
is  built  for  eternity. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Hm,  I  always  say,  that  the  large  number  of 
deaths  nowadays  is  simply  due  to  the  large  number  of  doctors. 

Martha  (opens  the  rear  door  at  the  right  and  enters  the  door} . — Will 
you  kindly  come  over  into  the  dining  room  now,  Doctor?  I  have  prepared 
a  hasty  luncheon  for  you. 

Dr.  Nowack. — Yes,  I  will  report  for  my  customary  feed. 

Martha. — The  Elector's  good  wine  is  ready  for  you,  Doctor! 

Karl  Egon. — And  a  cigar  to  smoke  on  the  way! 

Dr.  Nowack. — Will  be  accepted  thankfully. 

Karl  Egon. — Wait  a  moment.  I'll  go  along.  Martha  does  not 
know  the  brands  yet. 

Dr.  Nowack. — God  be  with  you,  grandmother!  We  shall  often  see 
each  other  still  in  this  life.  (He  waves  his  hand  to  her,  then  departs  with 
KARL  EGON  and  MARTHA  through  the  rear  door  at  the  right.} 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (calls  after  him}. — You  need  not  come  on  my 
account.  Just  remain  at  home  nicely.  (She  remains  sitting  in  medita- 
tion, then  looks  around,  because  she  hears  steps  from  behind  in  the  garden. 
Here  in  the  meantime  PASTOR  SIEBERT  and  THOMAS  Voss  have  crossed  the 
foot-bridge  into  the  garden  and  are  coming  up  the  steps  to  the  hall.} 

Pastor. — I  wonder  how  long  it  has  been,  my  dear  Mr.  Voss,  since 
you  have  planted  your  foot  upon  this  spot? 

^055  (who  seems  to  follow  the  pastor  only  with  hesitation,  gloomily}. 
— Surely  I  can't  recollect  that,  Mr.  Siebert. 

Pastor. — Yes,  the  ways  of  the  Lord  are  strange.  Would  you  so 
much  as  have  dreamed  last  night,  that  you  would  ever  enter  here  again 
at  my  side? 

^055. — I  don't  like  to  do  it  either,  Mr.  Siebert.  If  it  weren't  for 
your  sake 

Pastor. — Happy  is  the  man  who  triumphs  over  himself! 

Voss. — Why  can't  he  come  to  me  if  he  wants  to  make  up?     Why 


1 8  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

must  I  come  to  him?  Because  I  have  remained  only  a  little  fellow  and 
he  has  become  a  big  gun?  Is  that  why? 

Pastor. — I  am  telling  you,  am  I  not,  it  is  because  he  is  ill,  seriously 
ill !  Because  I  fear  that  his  days  are  numbered. 

Voss. — Is  that  it?  So  he's  really  going  to  kick  the  bucket?  Then 
I  got  ahead  of  him  at  least  in  this  thing!  I'll  stand  it  for  a  long  while  in 
this  old  hide  of  mine!  (During  the  last  sentences  they  have  remained 
standing  on  the  top  step,  at  the  entrance  to  the  hall;  now  they  proceed.} 

Pastor  (already  in  the  center  of  the  hall}. — Here  I  am  bringing  you 
an  acquaintance,  Mrs.  Rosenhagen! 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (has  risen  slowly) . — Did  you  come  after  all 
then,  Voss? 

Voss  (stands  opposite  her  and  strokes  his  clean-shaven  face}. — It's 
the  pastor's  doing!  Without  the  pastor  you  probably  wouldn't  have  laid 
eyes  on  me  here ! 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — It  has  been  some  little  time  since  the  last  occa- 
sion when  we  two  talked  to  each  other ! 

Voss. — Yes,  some  little  time  I 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — But  you  have  changed  little. 

Voss. — A  body  is  getting  older. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Such  a  kid  as  you  are !  I  can  still  see  you  as  a 
boy.  I  can  see  you  as  plainly  as  I  do  today!  Once  you  almost  choked 
my  boy  off  for  me ! 

^055. — May  be  it  would  have  been  better  if  I'd  done  it! 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — I  dare  say  you  are  still  the  same  old  slugger 
that  you  were  in  the  days  of  yore  ? 

Voss. — Who  can  vouch  for  himself? 

Pastor  (who  is  observing  the  two  in  joyous  excitement). — And  now, 
my  dear  friends,  will  you  two  not  shake  hands? 

Voss. — I  don't  suppose  that's  necessary,  Mr.  Siebert! 

Pastor. — And  if  I  beg  you  to  with  all  my  heart? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — So  far  as  concerns  me  he  can  offer  me  his 
hand  or  not !  I  know  I  have  nothing  against  him. 

Voss. — I  have  a  better  recollection  of  it. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Of  what  concern  is  it  to  me  what  squabbles 
you  have  had  with  my  husband  and  my  son? 

Voss. — You  helped  along  pretty  well  in  those  days,  thirty  or  forty 
years  ago.  It's  not  to  your  credit  that  I  am  still  in  the  village,  that  I  have 
not  become  a  roustabout  like  Wegner,  or  have  gone  to  America,  like 
Stubenrauch,  or  hanged  myself  like  Pohlmann  when  the  little  bit  of  money 


MAX  HALBE  19 

was  gone  which  he  got  from  your  son  for  the  fine  farm!  It  is  certainly 
not  to  your  credit. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Since  those  days  a  good  bit  of  water  has  run 
through  the  mill  race.  I  hardly  think  of  that  as  in  a  dream ! 

Voss. — After  all,  it  will  do  no  good  for  us  to  talk  about  it.  The  life 
that  one  has  had  from  this  will  not  be  changed  or  improved  by  that ! 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (murmuring  partly  to  herself). — Scarcely  in  my 
dreams  do  I  think  of  that. 

Voss. — How  is  it,  Mr.  Siebert?  Shall  we  go  now  or  not?  If  it  must 
be  done,  then  I  prefer  that  it  should  be  done  soon  1 

Pastor  (pulls  him  away). — Come  along,  man!  Come!  ( The  two 
go  out  through  the  front  door  at  the  right.) 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (shakes  her  head,  murmurs) . — This  is  a  peculiar 
world!  An  awfully  peculiar  world!  (She  slowly  hobbles  away  to  the 
left.) 

(At  the  same  time  KARL  EGON  enters  the  hall  with  WEGNER,  through 
the  rear  door  at  the  right.) 

Karl  Egon. — Rathke  tells  me  that  you  were  here  once  before. 

Wegner. — Yes,  I  inquired  for  your  father. 

Karl  Egon. — Father  is  ill;  you  will  have  to  put  up  with  me. 

Wegner  (looks  around  curiously  and  inquisitively). — Well,  well 

ill!  Surely  not  seriously? 

Karl  Egon. — I  fear  he  is! 

Wegner. — Hm 1  am  sorry ! 

Karl  Egon. — Well,  what  can  I  do  for  you? 

Wegner  (again  as  before). — Excuse  me,  kind  sir,  I  am  only  looking 
around  a  bit.  You  know,  formerly  I  was  here  many  a  time. 

Karl  Egon. — I  know You  formerly  lived  here  at  Hohenau. 

Wegner. — Yes,  when  I  still  had  my  property,  the  same  that  your 
father  afterwards  bought  from  me.  Your  father  made  a  fine  slice  out  of 
that. 

Karl  Egon. — You  did  not  have  to  agree  to  it,  did  you? 

Wegner. — I  had  to,  well  enough ! 

Karl  Egon. — How  so,  did  you  have  to  ? 

Wegner. — What  are  you  going  to  do  when  the  water  rises  to  your 
throat?  Your  father  knew  quite  well  that  I  could  not  keep  up  any  longer, 
that  I  had  to  sell,  whether  I  wanted  to  or  not,  or  the  creditors  would  have 

come  and  locked  up  the  shebang  before  my  very  nose Well,  and  so 

we  made  our  little  deal.  It  was  a  good  deal  for  your  father. 


20  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Karl  Egon  (shrugging  his  shoulders}. — May  be!  How  does  that 
concern  me? 

Wegner. — Why,  I  haven't  the  slightest  notion  of  reproaching  your 
father  for  it.  Business  is  business.  And  even  if  it  is  one's  own  father, 
every  one  must  see  how  he  fares.  I  had  to  pay  a  large  apprentice's  fee 
before  I  learned  that.  As  a  result,  however,  he  is  established  more  firmly 
than  ever. 

Karl  Egon. — You  are  living  at  Danzig  now? 

Wegner. — Yes,  you  know  I  am  a  kind  of  intermediary  in  all  matters 
that  yield  a  profit;  houses,  mortgages,  real  estate,  old  furniture.  They 
are  very  fond  of  buying  that  in  the  city  now.  (He  looks  around  inquisi- 
tively again.}  You  see,  these  oak  wardrobes,  you  would  get  a  fine  bit  of 
money  for  them  if  you  cared  to.  I  tell  you  I  know  a  dunce  who  would 
buy  them  right  off. 

Karl  Egon. — The  wardrobes  will  not  be  sold.     They  are  heirlooms. 

Wegner. — And  those  porcelain  vases,  do  you  see?  What  is  that  rub- 
bish to  you  ?  Rather  buy  something  new,  pretty,  up-to-date.  What  differ- 
ence does  it  make  whether  you  have  the  old  riffraff  or  not?  I'll  offer  you 
a  decent  price. 

Karl  Egon. — Is  it  possible  that  you  have  come  from  Danzig  on 
account  of  the  wardrobes  and  vases,  Mr.  Wegner? 

Wegner. — Nope.  I  came  on  account  of  something  else.  Just  ask 
your  father  about  all  the  uses  to  which  I  can  be  put.  Your  father  knows 
all  about  me. 

Karl  Egon. — Then  out  with  it. 

Wegner. — I  have  done  your  father  many  a  favor,  I  may  say  that  truth- 
fully. You  know  how  that  goes.  One  good  turn  deserves  another.  He 
doesn't  act  small.  That's  no  more  than  just.  It  has  always  been  a  clean 
business  deal  with  him.  "What  can  you  do?"  "What  do  you  have  to 
offer?"  "What  have  you?"  And  when  it  gets  that  far  along,  spot  cash! 
No  bargain,  no  cash! 

Karl  Egon   (impatiently}. — Well,  and  then? 

Wegner. — You  see,  excellent  sir,  for  as  good  a  customer  as  your 
father,  a  fellow  will  do  something  special  once  in  a  while,  even  if  it  costs 
a  bit  more  time  and  work.  After  all  a  fellow  knows  it  is  not  in  vain.  Of 
course  it  will  come  in  again  on  the  other  hand.  Well,  I  tell  you  I  have 
brought  your  father  something  fine  today.  Something  fine  as  a  fiddle ! 
Something  exquisite!  (He  has  pulled  out  his  letter  case,  rummages  about 
in  it  and  takes  out  a  folded  document.} 


MAX  HALBE  21 

Karl  Egon  (it  begins  to  dawns  on  him) . — Does  that  have  any  connec- 
tion with  the  meadow  land  over  there? 

Wegner  (hands  him  the  document). — Read  for  yourself,  fine  sir. 
Read  for  yourself.  Convince  yourself  with  your  own  eyes. 

Karl  Egon. — This  is  an  attested  copy,  I  see. 

Wegner. — Attested  by  a  notary  public!  Why,  of  course!  All  gen- 
uine. All  tested.  Not  an  iota  wrong.  Copied  and  recorded  word  for 
word  from  the  old  Hohenau  register.  Do  you  see  the  notary's  signature 
here? 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  where  did  you  raise  that? 

Wegner. — Do  you  mean  the  register?  Where  do  you  suppose  I 
picked  it  up?  At  the  court  house,  of  course.  Where  else,  do  you  think? 
At  the  court  house  at  Danzig.  Up  stairs  in  the  attic  where  all  the  old 
documents  and  mortgage  registers,  and  all  the  stuff  down  from  the  days 
of  Methuselah  lies  around  in  confusion. 

Karl  Egon. — How  did  the  notion  ever  strike  you  at  all  ? 

Wegner. — That  I  will  tell,  my  excellent  gentleman.  That  is  a  very 
simple  affair.  It  has  hardly  been  three  months  since  your  father  came  to 
Danzig  one  fine  day  and  met  me  on  the  market-place  and  said  to  me:  "See 
here,  man  alive,"  he  said,  "you  can  do  me  a  great  favor.  You  know  how  I 
stand  with  Voss.  You  always  have  had  it  in  for  Voss  a  bit  too,  haven't 

you?" Now  your  father  is  quite  right  on  that  point,  I  have  it  in  for 

Voss,  and  I  will  attend  to  him  some  day,  well  enough. 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  what  harm  did  Voss  do  you? 

Wegner. — What  harm  he  did  me?  None  at  all.  But  I  do  say,  I 
will  not  allow  such  a  fellow  to  look  down  upon  me.  Why,  he  hardly 
knows  a  fellow  on  the  street.  I  know  very  well  why.  Because  I  have  had 
to  give  up,  and  he  hasn't  for  the  present.  Just  wait  a  bit,  old  boy,  I'll  show 
you  a  thing  or  two. 

Karl  Egon. — Well,  yes,  and  what  else?     What  else? 

Wegner. — So  then  I  was  speaking  to  your  father;  one  word  leads  to 
another.  Your  father  tells  me  of  the  meadow  land;  that  it  by  rights  does 

not  belong  to  Voss  at  all,  that  it  is  supposed  to  be  village  property. 

Now  I  had  heard  that  again  and  again  from  my  father.  He  was  a  magis- 
trate in  the  village,  as  you  probably  know.  We  talked  about  that  many  a 
time,  how  the  Vosses  put  the  land  into  their  pocket  by  snatchgrab  (he 
makes  a  gesture),  as  it  were,  back  in  some  old  year.  And  so  I  said  to  your 
father,  "Old  chap,"  said  I,  "only  one  thing  will  do  the  work.  Evidence! 
Evidence !"  "Get  me  the  evidence,"  said  he.  "I'll  get  you  the  evidence," 
said  I.  "If  it  can  be  had  at  all,  I'll  land  it."  "Good,"  said  he.  Settled. 


22  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

And  now  I  went  straight  to  the  court  house,  because  I  said  to  myself,  at  the 
court  house  the  books  and  documents  are  surely  still  to  be  found,  and  I  got 
next  to  one  of  those  old  court  recorders  with  whom  I  am  on  good  terms, 
and  I  got  permission  to  look  around  up  in  the  attic,  and  I  tell  you,  as  luck 
would  have  it 

Karl  Eg  on  (meanwhile  has  read  the  document  through}. — According 
to  that  it  is  all  correct,  the  meadow  is  really  village  property,  as  father  has 
always  said. 

Wegner. — Do  you  see,  my  dear  sir,  now  isn't  that  worth  a  little  lump 
of  gold,  that  scrap  of  paper?  A  lump  of  gold  even  among  relatives! 

Karl  Egon  (calmly}. — I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Wegner,  I  cannot  make  use 
of  your  document  in  spite  of  all  that.  Just  take  it  back.  (He  holds  out 
the  paper  to  him.} 

Wegner  (bounds  back). — How  so?  What  is  the  meaning  of  that? 
Do  you  mean  to  say  that  something  about  it  is  wrong?  Does  something 
fail  to  jibe? 

Karl  Egon. — I  don't  mean  to  say  that ;  the  document  does  seem  to  be 
quite  correct,  else  it  would  hardly  have  been  attested  by  the  notary. 

Wegner. — Now  then!  What  else  do  you  want,  fine  sir?  I  just  tell 
you  seize  your  opportunity,  seize  it !  You  may  be  glad  to  get  some  weapon 
in  your  hand  against  Voss.  Something  in  writing.  In  any  other  way  you 
will  not  catch  up  with  him. 

Karl  Egon  (smiling}. — Possibly  I  shall,  after  all.  Possibly  you  are 
mistaken  1 

Wegner  (maliciously). — You  suppose,  do  you,  my  dear  sir,  Voss  will 
knuckle  to  you  on  account  of  your  beautiful  eyes,  an  independent  rascal 
like  him?  Nope,  that's  where  you're  off.  We  know  him  better !  If  your 
father  were  only  here!  He  wouldn't  beat  about  the  bush  in  this  way. 
The  devil  take  it,  that  he  had  to  take  sick !  Damned  muddle ! 

Karl  Egon  (calmly). — Here,  take  your  paper  and  go  on.  And  in 
order  that  you  may  see  that  father  has  the  same  opinion  of  it  as  I,  I  will 
just  tell  you,  Mr.  Voss  and  Reverend  Siebert  are  with  father  at  this  moment 
and  are  having  a  heart  to  heart  talk. 

Wegner  (nonplussed). — What  are  they  doing?  Having  a  heart  to 
heart  talk? 

Karl  Egon. — A  reconciliation  is  taking  place. 

Wegner. — Your  father  and  Voss  are  having  a  heart  to  heart  talk? 
You  are  surely  a  little  off,  sir! 

Karl  Egon. — You  see  we  no  longer  need  your  document. 


MAX  HALBE  23 

Wegner  {eagerly  reaches  for  the  document}. — Give  it  here!  Give 
it  here  I 

Karl  Egon. — Here  it  is  1     And  now  good-bye  1 

Wegner  {angrily  -puts  the  document  into  his  -pocket}. — You  will  come 
to  me  some  fine  day  yet !  You  will  come  to  me  yet !  You  and  your  father  I 
I  will  bet  my  neck! 

Karl  Egon. — Now  what  if  you  are  mistaken? 

Wegner. — Voss  and  your  father  get  along!  And  the  neighboring 
here  to  proceed  calmly,  and  Voss  remain  here  at  his  very  nose,  as  if  the 
whole  quarrel  had  not  sprung  up  because  they  are  too  close  together,  and 

now  all  at  once  they  are  expected  to  embrace  and  sing  hallelujah 1 

Nope,  fine  sir,  you  can't  make  Wegner  believe  such  a  thing.  I  will  just 
simply  laugh  at  that.  I'll  just  laugh  at  it.  {He  goes  to  the  door  at  the 
left.) 

Karl  Egon. — But,  I  say,  you  have  had  work  and  expense  in  connection 
with  the  affair.  If  an  indemnification 

Wegner  (remains  standing  in  the  door). — I  thank  you,  sir.  I  thank 
you  very  much!  Don't  go  to  useless  trouble! 

Karl  Egon. — Well,  you  surely  haven't  done  this  for  mere  pleasure. 

Wegner. — You  suppose,  do  you,  that  an  ousted  little  property  owner, 
one  that  is  compelled  to  eat  the  leavings  of  other  men's  tables,  cannot 
allow  himself  a  pleasure  on  his  own  hook? 

Karl  Egon. — A  strange  genius  ! 

Wegner  (with  malicious  titter). — You  see,  sir,  your  father  sat  here 
in  the  village  pond  of  Hohenau  like  a  full  grown  pike,  and  the  rest  of  us 
land  owners  were  the  little  smelt,  which  he  swallowed  one  after  another. 
Then  I  say  to  myself  after  all,  Why  shouldn't  he  swallow  the  last  smelt  that 
is  still  left  ?  Why  should  the  one  in  any  way  be  ahead  of  the  rest  and  exalt 
himself  so  much  above  the  rest  of  us?  Do  you  understand  that?  Then, 
after  all,  I'll  help  the  pike,  and  am  glad  that  the  other  smelt  fares  no  better 
than  I. 

Karl  Egon  (turns  away). — Well,  you  will  hardly  come  out  even  at 
that. 

Wegner. — Deferring  is  not  equal  to  quashing.  I  can  wait,  dear  sir. 
I  can  wait  quite  a  while.  And  if,  some  day,  you  need  my  address,  then  just 
inquire  of  your  father  or  your  overseer.  You  can  get  me  on  the  spot. 
Good-bye,  dear  sir,  good-bye.  (He  departs  with  several  bows.) 

Karl  Egon  (looks  after  him,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  turns  toward 
the  front  at  the  right,  where  at  that  moment  the  door  is  opened  and  PASTOR 


24  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

SIEBERT  comes  out  with  Voss.     Sees  the  PASTOR.)  —  Well,  Mr.  Siebert, 
how  are  matters?     Everything  settled  nicely? 

Pastor  (approaches  him).  —  Give  me  your  hand,  my  young  friend! 
Give  me  your  hand!  (He  seizes  his  hand  and  shakes  it.) 

Karl  Egon.  —  One  can  tell  by  your  face,  all  has  gone  well. 

Pastor.  —  Yes,  I  am  very  glad!     Glad  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart. 

Karl  Egon  (steps  up  to  Voss,  who  has  remained  standing  at  the  door 
and  stares  ahead  gloomily).  —  I  think  we  can  also  shake  hands  now,  Mr. 
Voss?  (He  extends  his  hand.) 

Voss.  —  I  suppose  that  is  a  part  of  it.  (He  shakes  the  proffered  hand 
with  some  hesitation.) 

Karl  Egon.  —  We  have  never  had  any  difficulty,  anyhow,  you  and  I. 

Voss  (still  reticent  and  on  his  guard).  —  Are  you  so  sure  about  that? 

Karl  Egon  (with  animation).  —  It  was  certainly  the  most  rational 
thing  that  you  could  do,  you  and  father,  that  you  have  made  up. 

Pastor  (stepping  up  to  them).  —  It  was  the  visible  will  of  God. 
Therefore  it  had  to  come  about. 

Karl  Egon.  —  This  everlasting  quarreling  about  nothing  at  all  has 
always  gone  against  my  grain.  What  is  the  upshot  of  it  all?  Nothing! 
Useless  waste  of  energy,  and  that  I  detest.  Either  peace  or  honorable  war 
to  the  knife.  I  believe,  Mr.  Voss,  you  can  subscribe  to  that? 

Voss  (looks  at  him).  —  Yes,  I  can  subscribe  to  that. 

Karl  Egon.  —  Well,  I  hope  things  can  be  settled  amicably  between  us. 

Voss.  —  Of  course  you  know  the  proverb:  Our  hopes  and  expecta- 
tions - 

Karl  Egon.  —  Oh,  pshaw!     I  will  not  allow  myself  to  be  frightened 
by  proverbs.     You  see,  Voss,  once  and  for  all,  we  are  neighbors,  and  pre- 
sumably will  remain  neighbors  for  some  time  - 
.  —  Yes,  that's  what  I  think  too  I 


Karl  Egon  (continuing).  —  And  so  we  must  depend  upon  each  other! 
You  cannot  deprive  us  of  water  - 

Voss.  —  That  would  depend  upon  a  trial,  I  say  to  myself! 

Karl  Egon.  —  No,  no,  dear  Mr.  Voss,  you  cannot  do  that,  for  we  are 
backed  up  too  well.  You  cannot  do  that  !  But,  after  all  we  cannot  crowd 
you  out  of  the  village  by  force  - 

Voss.  —  No,  that  would  hardly  be  possible! 

Karl  Egon  (continuing).  —  And  even  if  we  could,  we  do  not  want  to. 

Pastor.  —  That  is  right,  my  dear  young  friend.  These  are  good 
steadfast  words. 


MAX  HALBE  25 

Karl  Egon. — So  I  propose  that  we  come  to  an  amicable  agreement 
and  try  to  get  on  together,  as  long  as  we  are  still  neighbors. 

^055. — I  suppose  you  want  to  sell  and  move  to  the  city? 

Karl  Egon. — I  ?     No  1     That  is  not  my  intention  1 

Voss. — Well,  neither  is  it  mine  !     Certainly  not  mine ! 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  that  will  all  straighten  out.  We  will  talk  about 
that  later  some  time !  At  all  events  remember  what  I  have  told  you,  Voss  1 
Either  peace  and  rational  agreement  or  war  to  the  knife  I  An  alternative 
is  impossible  for  us!  Don't  forget  thatl 

Voss. — I'll  plant  that  where  it  will  keep  1 

Pastor  (stands  with  hands  folded). — Lord,  how  I  thank  Thee  that 
I  have  succeeded  in  the  difficult  task!  How  I  thank  Thee  that  Thou  hast 
helped  me!  (He  follows  Voss  quickly  down  the  steps  into  the  garden, 
beyond  the  foot-bridge  and  to  the  right  where  they  disappear.) 

Karl  Egon  (looks  after  them  still  for  a  moment,  murmurs  to  himself, 
half  audibly). — And  I'll  get  you  after  all!  I'll  get  you  after  all!  (He 
turns  toward  the  front  door  at  the  right,  just  as  it  is  suddenly  opened 
violently,  starts  back.}  Father! 

Rosenhagen  (totters  in,  looking  about  with  a  feverish  expression  in 
his  eyes). — Where  is  he? Is  he  gone? 

Karl  Egon  (frightened}. — Why,  father!  What  is  the  matter?  Is 
no  one  with  you? 

Rosenhagen  (feverishly} . — Where  is  Voss? I  am  asking  where 

is  Voss? 

Karl  Egon. — Voss  has  just  gone  with  the  pastor.  Why  do  you  still 
ask  for  him? 

Rosenhagen. — Fetch  him  back!  Why,  the  whole  thing  is  in  vain,  of 
course!  Absolutely  in  vain. 

Karl  Egon. — But  for  what  reason? Didn't  the  pastor  say  that 

all  passed  off  well? 

Rosenhagen. — The  pastor  is  as  stupid  as  a  goose  egg!  Fetch  back 
Voss  to  me! 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  yes,  it  can  all  be  done.  But  first  of  all  do  sit  down  I 
Standing  is  a  bad  thing  for  a  sick  body. 

Rosenhagen  (angrily}. — I  am  not  sick.  Don't  rejoice  prematurely! 
I  will  still  hold  my  own ! 

Karl  Egon  (slowly  leads  him  to  a  chair  at  the  table} . — Certainly  1 

Certainly!      First  of  all  you  need  rest. 

Rosenhagen  (remains  standing,  clenches  his  fist). — Now  who  did  put 


26  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

it  into  my  head  that  I  should  make  up  with  Voss?  Who  has  played  me 
that  trick? 

Karl  Egon  (again  tries  to  lead  him  on}. — Just  come,  father!  Come 
along  I  It  will  all  turn  out  right  1 

Rosenhagen. — As  if  I  did  not  know  what  he  secretly  thought,  when  he 
shook  hands  with  mel  As  if  I  did  not  know  that  it  was  all  sham  on  his 
part,  because  he  could  not  help  himself  before  the  pastor  I 

Karl  Egon. — If  you  know  that,  father,  why  do  you  not  do  likewise? 
Sham  for  sham!  Get  at  the  enemy  with  his  own  weapons! 

Rosenhagen  (looks  at  him  nonplussed,  then  more  calmly}. — After  all 
you  are  not  quite  as  much  off  color  as  I  have  always  supposed! 

Karl  Egon. — I  am  of  another  color!     Must  all  of  us  be  alike? 

Rosenhagen. — You  are  quite  a  bit  like  your  mother.  She  also  had 
her  own  way  on  all  occasions.  That  is  why  I  just  allowed  you  to  go  your 
own  way. 

Karl  Egon. — You  have  done  that,  and  I  am  thankful  to  you  for  it. 
But  now  come  and  sit  down. 

Rosenhagen. — No,  no,  let  me  stand!  I  feel  better  when  I  can  stand. 
I  must  have  air!  Air! 

Karl  Egon. — Then  support  yourself,  at  least! 

Rosenhagen  (supports  himself  on  his  arm.  The  two  stand  in  the 
center  of  the  hall,  partly  turning  toward  the  garden} . — One  thing  you  must 
now  promise  me,  Karl,  or  I  cannot  die  in  peace ! 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  father! 

Rosenhagen. — Yes,  yes,  say  nothing!  I  feel  it  clearly!  Something 
in  my  breast  must  be  asunder.  There  is  a  kind  of  rattling  and  sawing. 

Karl  Egon. — That  will  be  restored  again,  father! 

Rosenhagen. — Nothing  will  be  restored  again.  My  time  is  up !  But 
I  do  not  want  to  depart  this  life  before  you  have  promised  me  something. 

Karl  Egon. — If  it  is  in  my  power. 

Rosenhagen  (points  out}. — Look,  Karl,  the  land  out  there,  almost 
up  to  the  black  forests.  I  acquired  all  that,  and  what  does  not  come  from 
me  has  come  from  my  father.  It  hasn't  been  seventy  years  since  your 
grandfather  moved  in  here.  Very  modestly,  indeed,  did  we  begin,  and 

today ! Well,  you  know  our  position  today.  It  all  would  have  been 

fine  enough,  if  we  had  not  had  that  beggar  on  the  other  side,  that  scoundrel 
on  our  nose!  Isn't  that  a  shame?  Far  and  wide  everything  belongs  to 
one,  and  at  one's  very  door  one  is  not  even  master!  I  feel  it  strangle  me 
when  I  think  of  it. 

Karl  Egon. — Calm  yourself,  father!     What  is  to  be  done  about  it? 


MAX  HALBE  27 

Rosenhagen  (straightens  up}. — Karl,  promise  me  that  you  will  kill 
off  that  malicious  beggar  over  there  I 

Karl  Egon  (excited). — How  can  I  promise  that? 

Rosenhagen  (without  listening  to  him). — Promise  me  that  you  will 
kill  him  off!  I  have  not  lived  to  carry  it  outl  If  I  had  acquired  the 
evidence  in  regard  to  the  meadow  land,  I  should  have  had  him  in  the 
snare.  But  now  it  is  too  late  for  me.  Now  it's  your  turn.  You  must 
kill  him  off.  That  is  the  heritage  that  I  bequeath  to  you  I 

Karl  Egon. — And  if  I  handle  him  amicably? 

Rosenhagen. — Karl,  you  are  young  and  you  don't  know  the  world. 
I  tell  you,  peace  and  friendship  are  impossible  for  you  and  him.  One  of 
you  must  fall!  See  to  it  that  he  falls,  not  you!  That  much  you  owe  to 
me. 

Karl  Egon. — Good,  if  you  are  right,  if  no  alternative  remains,  I  will 
promise  you  that. 

Rosenhagen. — Will  you  shake  hands  on  that? 

Karl  Egon  (smiling). — You  may  depend  upon  me!  I  will  stand  my 
ground  as  well  as  I  can. 

Rosenhagen. — And  yield  before  no  one  and  at  nothing  as  long  as  you 
live? 

Karl  Egon. — As  long  as  I  live.     Yes,  I  promise  you  that. 

Rosenhagen  (looks  at  him  sharply). — Not  even  if  a  certain  woman 
comes  and  says  she  does  not  like  it  here  in  the  country,  and  that  you  are 
to  go  away  to  the  city  with  her? 

Karl  Egon  (unsteady  for  a  moment) . — I  don't  quite  understand  you. 

Rosenhagen. — You  suppose,  do  you,  that  I  know  nothing  of  your  cor- 
respondence with  Hermine  Diesterkamp? 

Karl  Egon. — I  am  willing  for  you  to  know  it. 

Rosenhagen. — Well,  I  am  urging  no  objections.  Take  her  if  she 
wants  you !  But  train  her  anew.  She  is  like  her  mother.  I  know  the 
type.  She  will  not  be  contented  anywhere  for  a  long  time  if  you  do  not 
train  her  properly. 

Karl  Egon. — I  believe  I  know  Hermine  better! 

Rosenhagen. — What  are  you  going  to  do  if  she  longs  to  be  away  and 
wants  to  draw  you  with  her? 

Karl  Egon. — I  have  given  you  my  word,  father.     I  shall  keep  that. 

Rosenhagen. — Good!  Then  I  am  calm!  Then  I'm  calm.  And 
then  you  are  my  good  son!  My  good  son! 

Karl  Egon. — But  now,  do  come.     I'll  take  you  to  bed! 


28  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Rosenhagen. — Yes,  put  me  to  bed.  I  can  scarcely  keep  my  feet.  I 
must  have  sleep. 

Karl  Eg  on  (leads  him  to  the  door}. — So.  Do  calm  yourself! 
Slowly,  slowly !  Now  you  will  take  a  rest. 

Rosenhagen. — Now  I  want  to  rest.  Haven't  I  earned  it?  (Remains 
standing  once  more,  raises  his  hand.)  But  if  you  break  your  word,  Karl, 
I  will  raise  my  hand  from  the  grave  and  fetch  you  after  me ! 

Karl  Egon. — Never  fear,  father.  On  this  ground  I  shall  stand  and 
fall!  (He  slowly  leads  him  out  at  the  right.) 

Curtain. 


SECOND  ACT 

Hall  in  the  manor  house  as  in  the  first  act.  The  table  in  the  center 
is  cleared.  On  it  stands  a  bouquet  in  a  vase,  beside  which  there  are  plates 
and  glasses.  Before  the  sofa  at  the  left  near  the  front  a  table  and  several 
easy  chairs.  The  rest  is  not  changed. 

It  is  a  sunny  autumn  day  early  in  September.  The  folding  doors 
leading  into  the  garden  are  open  as  before.  As  in  the  first  act  one  looks 
beyond  flower  beds  and  garden  paths,  beyond  the  brook  and  meadow  into 
the  blue  distance. 

MINNIE  is  occupied  setting  the  table  at  the  right  near  the  front. 
MARTHA  is  directing  the  work.  She  is  dressed  in  mourning.  OVERSEER 
RATHKE  is  leaning  his  back  against  the  large  table  in  the  center. 

Minnie  (busily  at  work). — And  so  the  Miss  is  really  not  going  to  eat 
with  the  rest? 

Martha. — No,  four  places.  I  have  already  had  my  breakfast.  I 
don't  care  for  anything  more. 

Minnie  (counting  on  her  fingers). — Our  old  lady's  one,  our  young 
man's  two,  the  visitin'  Miss  is  three,  and  the  pretty  young  man's  four. 

Martha  (smiling). — The  pretty  young  man?     How  clever  you  are! 

Minnie  (lively). — That's  a  pretty  young  man,  the  visitin'  lady's 
brother.  Don't  ye  think  we  have  eyes  too? 

Rathke  (who  up  to  the  present  has  looked  on  in  silence). — Well,  I 
will!  Such  a  wretch! 

Minnie  (over  her  shoulder). — Oh!     What  of  you! 

Rathke  (half  grumbling) . — Such  a  darned  wretch! 


MAX  HALBE  29 

Minnie  (to  MARTHA). — And  he  is  so  obligin'  to  us.  Just  think  of 
it,  Miss,  what  he  said  t'  me  yesterday,  when  I  got  his  bed  ready— 

Martha. — Well,  what  did  he  say? 

Minnie  (beaming). — He  said,  "Minnie,  my  sweet  angel!"  Ever 
hear  anything  like  that,  Miss?  My  sweet  angel! 

Rathke  (blurting  out). — Now  she's  gone  plumb  daft! 

Minnie. — Cross  my  heart,  that's  what  he  said  t'  me ! 

Martha  (laughs  and  motions  to  her  to  desist) . — Well,  well,  hurry  and 
get  through.  The  folks  may  be  back  soon. 

Minnie. — It  was  just  strikin'  eight  when  Mr.  Rosenhagen  rode  away 
with  the  young  lady  and  the  young  man ! 

Martha. — And  now  it  is  after  ten.  So  they  must  be  back  soon.  Just 
hurry  up! 

Minnie. — But  it  is  really  wrong,  Miss,  that  you  ain't  goin'  to  eat  with 
'em. 

Martha. — Attend  to  your  own  affairs!     I  will  look  out  for  myself. 

Minnie  (looking  at  the  table  which  has  been  set). — Is  that  right  now, 
Miss? 

Martha  (arranging  a  few  more  details  at  the  table). — Yes,  and  now 
the  plates  and  glasses. 

Mninie  (goes  to  the  table  in  the  center). — Right  off,  Miss,  right  off! 

Martha  (also  goes  to  table  in  the  center). — Not  all  at  once!  Wait, 
I'll  help  you! 

Minnie  (has  taken  the  plates  in  her  left  arm,  and  reaches  for  the  wine 

glasses  with  her  right  hand). — N n,  Miss,  never  mind!  I  can  do  the 

whole  thing  myself. 

Martha  (interfering). — Oh,  Minnie! Minnie! 

Minnie  (surprised). — Why,  what's  the  matter,  Miss? 

Martha. — How  often  have  I  preached  to  you  not  to  put  your  dirty 
fingers  in  the  glasses !  And  now  you  are  doing  so  after  all ! 

Minnie  (with  self-reproach). — I  don't  know,  I'm  always  a  thinkin' ! 

Rathke. — She  thinks,  and  that  gives  it  a  better  flavor! 

Martha. — Just  carry  your  plates  over  first.  I  must  wipe  out  the 
glasses  once  more  anyhow! 

Minnie  (steps  to  the  sofa  table  with  the  plates.  She  distributes  them 
and  looks  over  toward  MARTHA). — Is  it  true,  Miss,  the  story  that  they 
are  tellin'  in  the  village? 

Martha  (wiping  out  the  glasses). — Why,  what  are  they  telling? 

Minnie  (with  an  important  air) . — Well,  that  Mr.  Rosenhagen  's  goin' 
t'  marry  the  young  lady  that's  visitin'?  Is  that  true? 


30  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Martha  (short). — How  do  I  know?  Why  don't  you  ask  him  your- 
self? 

Minnie  (naively). — Why,  no,  I  can't  do  that.  You  surely  don't  mean 
that,  Miss! 

Martha  (with  acerbity). — Then  don't  indulge  in  such  stupid  talk! 

Minnie. — It  just  seemed  t'  me  that  they'll  have  t'  get  engaged  before- 
hand, if  they  want  t'  get  married,  and  mebbe  they'll  get  engaged  today! 

(She  has  come  back  to  the  table  in  the  center,  accidentally  pushes  a 

glass  from  the  table,  which  falls  down  and  breaks.}  Goodness,  gracious! 
and  so  forth  and  so  on! 

Martha. — Now,  that's  a  nice  mess! 

Rathke  (at  the  same  time). — Heaven  and  earth! 

Martha  (calmly). — Get  a  whisk  broom  and  sweep  it  up!  ( MINNIE 
goes  back  to  the  door  at  the  right.)  While  you  are  at  it,  bring  another 
glass  along!  (MARTHA  takes  the  other  wine  glasses  and  carries  them  to 
the  sofa  table.)  No,  no,  never  mind,  there  was  one  too  many  anyhow. 
We  need  only  four.  I  am  not  going  to  drink  with  them. 

Minnie. — I'll  run  and  git  the  broom.      (Exit.) 

Martha  (at  the  sofa  table) . — What  do  you  say  to  that,  Rathke? 

Rathke  (who  has  remained  standing  quietly  at  the  table  in  the  center) . 
To  what? 

Martha. — That  the  glass  is  broken! 

Rathke. — If  the  old  women  have  their  way,  it  probably  means  some- 
thing or  other. 

Martha  (smiling). — Must  the  old  women  always  be  right  after  all? 

Rathke  (strokes  his  beard  thoughtfully). — I  have  to  keep  thinking 
of  that  fellow  over  there  all  the  time  today.  (He  points  out  into  the 
garden.) 

Martha. — That  is  not  so  strange !  This  is  the  day,  isn't  it,  when  his 
time  for  deliberation  expires? 

Rathke. — Yes,  the  two  weeks  are  up  today.     Now  we'll  see. 

Martha. — What  do  you  think,  Rathke?    Do  you  suppose  he'll  accept? 

Rathke. — How  can  a  fellow  size  him  up?  (He  points  out  again.) 
I  do  not  trust  him  this  much.  He  reminds  me  of  a  martin  after  chickens ! 

Martha  (evasively). — Karl  imagines  with  the  greatest  assurance  that 
they  will  reach  an  agreement,  that  he  will  sell. 

Rathke. — Let's  hope  for  the  best. 

Martha  (as  before). — Well,  really  it  can't  come  to  Voss  more  favor- 
ably !  Eighty  thousand  marks  for  that  little  farm !  He'll  never  get  that 
much  in  all  his  life  again! 


MAX  HALBE  31 

Rathke  (raging}. — Over  twelve  thousand  marks  an  acre!  Why, 
that's  twice  as  much  as  it's  worth! 

Minnie  (comes  in  again  with  a  large  brush  broom  and  a  coal  shovel). 
That's  it,  Miss,  and  now  I'll  sweep  up  the  pieces. 

Martha  (looking  at  her  casually) . — I  suppose  that  you  were  not  able 
to  find  any  other  broom,  how? 

Rathke. — Why,  that  looks  as  if  she  was  to  clean  up  for  Karo  in  the 
dog  house ! 

Minnie  (while  she  sweeps  up  the  pieces'). — Oh,  the  infernal  whisk- 
broom!  I  hunted  and  hunted! 

Martha. — Of  course !  Who  knows  where  that  is  flying  around 
again? 

Minnie  (has  swept). — Anything  else  t'  do  about  the  table? 

Martha. — No !     You  may  go !     Are  all  of  the  rooms  clean? 

Minnie. — Everything  in  order. 

Martha. — Dusted  ? 

Minnie  (frightened). — Oh,  merciful  providence! 

Martha. — I  do  say,  you  forget  the  most  important  part.  I  should 
like  to  know  where  your  mind  is. 

Minnie. — That's  because  I'm  always  havin'  such  thoughts,  Miss. 

Rathke. — Yes,  because  you  always  have  your  fellows  on  your  brain! 
That  is  the  whole  thing. 

Minnie  (throwing  back  her  head). — I  suppose  Mr.  Rathke  thinks  I 
have  no  feelin's?  And  what  if  it  is  only  a  fellow?  Mr.  Rathke  don't  pay 
any  attention  to  me,  does  he? 

Rathke  (advances  a  step  toward  her). — You  darned  huzzy! 

Minnie  (running  away). — You  just  dare  to  hit  me! I'll  scream. 

Martha. — Now  go  and  dust  and  be  quiet !     She's  a  bit  off ! 

Minnie. — Why,  don't  you  see  me  go?  I  am  goin'  as  fast  as  I  can! 
(She  goes  out  through  rear  door  at  the  right  with  broom  and  shovel.) 

Martha. — Do  you  see,  Rathke,  that  is  what  you  get ! 

Rathke. — Such  a  thing!  Hm!  She  deserves  a  lash  with  the  horse- 
whip. 

Martha  (steps  to  the  sofa  table,  sighing) . — Yes,  yes,  such  a  thing  has 
an  easy  time  of  it. 

Rathke. — Well,  I  say,  are  you  down  in  the  mouth  again? 

Martha. — I  am  just  imagining  how  it  will  be  here  soon!  What  will 
become  of  everything  here,  when  I  am  gone  some  day.  Everything  will 
be  turned  up  side  down,  you  know.  The  old  house  is  going  to  be  taken 


32  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

down  too.  How  do  you  like  the  new  castle  that  Karl  is  wanting  to  build? 
Hasn't  he  shown  you  the  plan? 

Rathke  (shrugging  his  shoulders}. — For  my  part,  it  might  remain  as 
it  is.  I  have  always  felt  quite  snug  in  my  room  that  looks  out  on  the  barn- 
yard. 

Martha. — Of  course,  he  is  doing  all  that  merely  for  her  sake.  He 
certainly  would  not  have  had  such  an  idea  of  his  own  accord. 

Rathke  (walks  to  and  fro  impatiently} . — I  do  say,  these  women  folks  ! 
These  women  folks  I 

Martha  (craftily  and  as  taking  a  start}. — I  should  just  like  to  know 
why  he  absolutely  wants  to  build  the  castle  on  the  other  side  of  the  mill 
race. 

Rathke. — That  is  surely  on  account  of  the  view,  isn't  it,  Miss? 

Martha. — Oh,  yes !     On  account  of  the  view ! 

Rathke. — Why,  yes!  Isn't  the  distillery  to  be  built  here,  and  that 
would  then  be  in  the  way  of  the  view.  That's  the  reason  he's  putting  the 
new  building  on  the  other  side.  Well,  he  has  more  room  there.  There 
he  has  the  meadow  land  and  Voss's  large  garden.  Those  put  together  will 
make  a  fine  large  park.  And  Voss's  buildings,  well,  he'll  simply  have  them 
torn  down. 

Martha. — Is  that  so?     He  is  going  to  have  them  torn  down? 

Rathke. — Yes,  what  can  he  do  with  them?     They  are  only  in  his  way! 

Martha. — I  see,  I  see,  this  is  going  to  be  a  regular  seat  of  the  aris- 
tocracy. 

Rathke. — Yes,  as  if  it  was  for  a  baron  or  a  count.  All  that  he  needs 
is  the  "von" ! 

Martha  (with  a  strange  smile}. — Won't  our  little  Karl  be  delighted, 
when  he  can  enter  there  with  her  and  spend  his  honeymoon  in  his  beautiful 
new  castle !  Oh,  that  pride ! 

Rathke. — Oh,  if  it  were  only  that  far  along! 

Martha. — Aha,  what  if  Voss  does  not  care  to  sell  after  all?  If  he 
simply  says  no  bargain  for  me,  I  am  going  to  stay  here,  and  that  is  all  there 
is  to  it. 

Rathke. — That's  just  the  hitch,  Miss.     That's  just  what  is  up  now! 

Martha. — Then  all  of  the  fine  plan  with  the  castle  and  the  park  and 
the  other  pomp  will  come  to  naught,  will  it  not  ?  Then  they  must  continue 
to  live  in  this  old  box  of  a  house  and  must  be  nice  and  contented  with  things 
as  they  are,  so  narrow  and  inconvenient  and  so  very  unsuitable  for  distin- 
guished people.  Well,  I  do  say  I 


MAX  HALBE  33 

Rathke  (as  before). — There  will  be  some  way  out  of  that,  Miss. 
There  will  be  some  way  out  of  that. 

Martha  (without  paying  attention  to  him). — And  the  elegant  furni- 
ture which  she  of  course  will  order  in  Paris  or  goodness  knows  where,  that 
will  look  fine  here  in  these  low  rooms.  How  will  she  place  it  at  all? 
There  is  no  room  for  it  at  all.  Just  see,  Rathke,  it  will  be  just  like  her  to 
go  back  on  the  engagement ! 

Rathke  (surprised). — Not  until  they  are  engaged.  Why,  they  aren't 
engaged  yet ! 

Martha  (fervently). — You  will  see,  she  will  not  let  it  come  to  the 
point  of  an  engagement  at  all!  She  will  go  away  before  it  comes  to  that! 

Rathke  (shaking  his  head). — Why,  you  talk  exactly  as  if  you  was 
tickled  at  the  thought  of  it. 

Martha  (veiled). — I  have  an  idea  you  don't  care  much  about  the 
new  castle?  You'd  like  it  best  if  all  remained  as  of  old? 

Rathke  (incensed). — What  I'd  like,  or  wouldn't  like,  Miss,  that  ain't 
the  question  at  all.  I'll  talk  to  you  about  that  and  to  no  other  person. 

Martha  (smiling). — Do  you  know  how  you  look  now,  Rathke? 

Rathke. — I  don't  care  a  darn  how  I  look! 

Martha  (unswervingly). — Like  our  old  crabbed  Karo !  Just  that 
way! 

Rathke. — I  don't  care !  May  be  Karo  will  bark  at  his  master  once 
in  a  while  when  he  is  out  of  sorts,  but  look  out  for  the  fellow  who  would 
even  frown  at  his  master! 

Martha. — You  see,  Rathke,  domestic  animals  are  not  all  alike.  May 
be  there  is  a  little  something  of  the  genus  cat  about  us  women. 

Rathke. — That  is  quite  possible.     I  can't  bear  the  darned  things. 

Martha. — Don't  say  that.     Cats  are  sometimes  very  affectionate. 

Rathke  (enraged). — That's  all  the  same  to  me.  I  only  say,  if  our 
young  man  wants  to  build  himself  a  castle,  that's  his  business.  And  if  he 
wants  to  buy  Voss's  farm  from  him,  that's  his  business  too !  I'm  not  to 
dip  into  that. 

Martha. — But  two  are  necessary  for  a  sale.     Can't  Voss  say  no? 

Rathke. — There  will  be  ways  of  doing  it  all  right.  It's  fixed  so  people 
don't  have  their  way  about  all  things.  Not  even  Voss. 

Martha  (suddenly  remembering). — You  are  surely  not  thinking  of 
the  fellow  who  was  here  once  before?  What  was  his  name?  The  fellow 
with  the  document?  The  one  whom  Karl  turned  out? 

Rathke. — I  don't  mean  to  find  fault  with  young  Mr.  Rosenhagen,  but 
that  was  the  greatest  nonsense  that  he  didn't  make  a  bargain  with  Wegner, 


34  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

when  he  was  so  willing !  If  he'd  only  gone  right  ahead  and  taken  the  cer- 
tificate !  It's  a  mighty  good  thing  that  it  can  be  fixed  up  yet ! 

Minnie  (opens  the  door  at  the  right,  partially  enters,  and  whispers 
with  an  important  air). — Miss  Riemann? 

Martha  (turns  around). — What  is  it? 

Minnie. — Old  Mr.  Voss  is  out  there.  He  wants  to  speak  to  Mr. 
Rosenhagen. 

Rathke. — Aha  I     Here  she  goes ! 

Minnie. — Is  he  to  come  in? 

Rathke. — Stupid  thing!  You  know  Mr.  Rosenhagen  is  out  riding. 
Have  him  come  back  in  an  hour. 

Martha  (who  has  reflected  for  a  moment,  quickly  interrupts). — No, 
no,  just  let  him  come  in!  Can't  he  wait  until  Mr.  Rosenhagen  returns? 

Minnie. — Very  well,  Miss!      (Leaves  quickly.) 

Rathke  (cross). — Then  I'd  better  go. 

Martha. — Are  you  going  to  edge  off,  Rathke? 

Rathke. — I  don't  edge  off  at  any  one  and  if  it  was  old  Nick  himself! 
All  that's  wrong  is  that  I  can't  get  myself  twisted  into  these  new  friendships 
right  off. 

Martha. — But  you  must  learn  how  to  do  that  now,  Rathke ! 

Rathke  (on  the  way  to  the  door). — It  takes  time  for  that.  This  dog 
is  so  old  that  new  tricks  are  getting  hard  for  him.  ( The  rear  door  at  the 
right  is  opened.) 

Voss  (remains  standing  in  the  door  which  he  has  entered). — I  say — 
Good  morning! 

Rathke  (likewise  before  the  door  so  that  they  stand  opposite  each 
other,  with  venomous  growling). — Thanks! 

Voss  (looks  about). — I  suppose  I  am  too  early? 

Rathke  (as  before). — It's  a  great  honor  for  us! 

Voss. — Of  course,  I  am  not  coming  on  your  account.  I  am  coming 
to  see  your  employer  1 

Rathke. — And  I  am  only  an  ordinary  overseer,  and  one  of  these  land- 
owners like  yourself 

Voss. — Just  say  farmer.     I  am  still  proud  of  that. 

Rathke. — And  I  am  proud  of  being  an  overseer! 

Voss. — Well,  you  see  everybody  has  his  little  vanity. 

Rathke. — It's  only  a  question  of  whose  vanity  will  last  longest. 

Voss  (suspiciously). — I  suppose  you  mean  something  or  other  by 
that? 

Rathke.— What  of  it? 


MAX  HALBE  35 

Voss. — I  want  an  answer! 

Rathke. — I  will  not  keep  on  owing  you  the  answer  when  the  time 
comes.  You  can  bet  your  neck  on  that!  (He  goes  out  angrily  through 
the  rear  door  at  the  right,  and  slams  the  door.) 

(Short  silence.) 

Martha. — Won't  you  sit  down,  Mr.  Voss? 

Voss  (still  near  the  door) . — It  will  hardly  pay. 

Martha. — Surely  you  are  not  going  to  remain  standing  until  my 
cousin  returns? 

Voss. — May  be  I'd  better  drop  in  later  once  more.  It  will  take  too 
long  anyway. 

Martha  (remains  near  the  table  in  the  center). — I  suppose  you  have 
something  important  to  discuss  with  my  cousin. 

Voss  (reticent). — Yes,  I  suppose  that's  it. 

Martha. — Probably  something  in  regard  to  the  place? 

Voss. — Somewhat  in  that  neighborhood.     Yes. 

Martha  (unconstrained). — Oh,  yes,  I  do  remember,  Karl  was  telling 
me  something,  something  about  buying.  He  wants  to  buy  your  place  or 
something  to  that  effect? 

Voss. — Why,  if  you  know,  I  don't  need  to  go  to  the  trouble  of  telling 
you. 

Martha. — Yes,  yes,  now  I  remember.  He  says  he  has  offered  you  a 
fine  price. 

Voss. — That  depends ;  it's  the  way  that  you  look  at  it. 

Martha. — Why,  eighty  thousand  marks  is  a  fine  bit  of  money,  isn't  it? 
Goodness ! 

Voss. — Maybe  it  isn't  a  song,  that's  correct.    It's  worth  talking  about. 

Martha. — Oh,  you  will  come  to  an  agreement!  I  can  tell  by  your 
face. 

Voss. — Well,  you  know,  quite  a  number  of  things  will  have  to  be 
brought  up  yet.  It  hasn't  been  signed  yet. 

Martha. — But  it  will  be  signed,  I  know  that  definitely ! 

Voss. — It's  not  a  little  matter  for  a  man  to  tear  himself  loose  from  a 
thing  to  which  he  has  clung  with  his  whole  heart.  And  if  it  were  your  dead 
uncle,  I'd  never  do  it  in  all  my  life!  He  could  have  gone  and  offered  me 
twice  as  much. 

Martha. — Yes,  yes,  Karl  is  quite  different  from  uncle.  He  can  just 
wind  a  person  around  his  little  finger  if  he  tries. 

Voss. — I  am  not  one  of  those  who  allow  themselves  to  be  wound 


36  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

around  one's  little  finger.  But  maybe  I  say  to  myself,  You  are  not  so 
awfully  young  any  more,  for  whom  should  you  wear  yourself  out?  Your 
oldest  son  is  dead,  the  one  who  might  have  taken  charge  of  it;  the  rest  have 
their  good  living  in  the  city,  they  will  not  move  out  here  into  the  country 
anyhow,  it  will  have  to  be  sold  anyhow  some  day  when  you  are  dead.  If 
you  get  a  decent  price 

Martha. — Do  you  see  how  nicely  my  cousin  has  led  you  on? 

Foss. — It  isn't  easy  for  me.  And  it  isn't  at  all  certain  yet,  that  that 
is  what  will  happen. 

Martha. — I  thought  you  had  to  make  up  your  mind  today? 

Foss. — There  is  no  have  to  about  it.     I  fixed  that  up  myself. 

Martha. — Then,  I  suppose,  much  is  passing  through  your  mind  now? 

Foss. — A  person  does  have  his  thoughts! 

Martha. — I  have  an  idea  that  it  is  a  hard  thing  to  do,  to  have  to  get 
out  of  the  house  of  his  fathers. 

Foss  ( turns  away ) . — We  had  better  not  talk  of  that  at  all ! 

Martha  (continuing  unswervingly}. — When  one  imagines  it  all,  you 
are  hardly  gone,  and  strange  men  come  and  tear  everything  down,  that  has 
been  dear  to  you,  not  one  stone  remaining  on  another 

Foss  (starting). — Not  a  stone  remaining! Who who  says 

that? 

Martha  (calmly). — I  imagine  that  to  be  terrible! 

^055  (angrily). — I  ask,  who  says  that? 

Martha. — What,  pray  tell? 

Foss  (coming  up  closer  to  her). — That  the  place  is  to  be  torn  down 
when  I'm  out  of  it?  Who  says  that,  I  ask! 

Martha. — Why,  isn't  that  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world?  You 
surely  need  not  be  surprised  at  that. 

Foss  (has  again  become  composed). — Yes,  yes,  that  is  right.  There 
is  nothing  surprising  about  that.  I  guess  that  is  the  only  thing  to  expect. 
(He  stands  there  battling  with  grave  thoughts.) 

Martha. — Why,  hadn't  you  heard  that  Karl that  my  cousin 

intends  to  build  a  large  castle  over  on  the  other  side  of  the  mill  race? 

Foss   (suddenly). — On  my  meadow  land! 

Martha. — Yes,  because  the  distillery  is  to  be  located  here,  and  in 
order  that  he  may  not  block  his  view,  he  is  going  to  build  the  castle  on  the 
other  side.  It  is  at  least  planned  in  that  way. 

Foss. — My  place  he  is  going  to  tear  down,  and  on  my  meadow  he  is 
going  to  build  a  castle  I 


MAX  HALBE  37 

Martha. — Why,  what  in  the  world  is  he  to  do  with  your  old  dilapi- 
dated house?  Why,  that  is  only  in  his  way. 

Voss. — He  should  let  it  stand. 

Voss. — He  hasn't  got  it  yet?     It's  not  signed  yet! 

Martha. — But  why  in  the  world  is  he  buying  your  whole  farm? 

Martha  (smiling). — Your  place  he  will  tear  down,  and  your  garden 
with  the  meadow  he  will  utilize  for  a  park  to  surround  the  castle  and  in  it 
he  will  live  then  with  his  beautiful  young  wife  and  will  be  glad  that  he  is 
alive  1 

Voss  (struggling  with  himself). — He  had  better  not  be  glad  before 
his  time! 

Martha. — You  are  not  conceited  enough  to  believe  that  he  cannot 
down  you  ? 

Voss. — Well,  I  still  have  a  word  to  say  in  that  matter. 

Martha. — Well,  what  if  he  gets  after  you  forcibly  then!  What  if 
he  can  bring  up  something  against  you?  Something  of  which  you  do  not 
think  at  all? 

Voss  (starting  up). — What  is  the  meaning  of  that?  After  all  some- 
thing is  crooked  there.  Why,  Rathke  has  also  hinted  something  of  the 
kind  before! 

Martha  (shrugging  her  shoulders). — I  haven't  said  a  thing. 

Voss  (threatening) . — He  had  better  be  careful!  I  will  give  him  that 
much  advice!  (The  door  at  the  left  is  opened.) 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (hobbles  through  the  door). — What  important 
conversation  is  this,  pray  tell? 

Martha  (goes  to  meet  her  in  an  unconstrained  manner). — Mr.  Voss 
is  here,  grandma. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — So  you  have  had  a  rendezvous,  you  two? 

Martha. — You  do  insist  on  having  your  fun,  grandma,  don't  you  ? 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (to  Voss). — Well,  you  old  slugger?  Come 
along  now,  and  confess. 

Martha. — Mr.  Voss  has  come  in  regard  to  the  sale,  grandma.  He 
wants  to  give  Karl  his  answer. 

(Voss,  who  up  to  the  present  time  has  stood  silent  and  brooding,  turns 
to  go,  without  a  word.) 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Why,  where  are  you  going  all  at  once?  I  am 
not  going  to  scratch  your  eyes  out. 

Voss  (turns  on  his  way  to  rear  at  the  right) . — It  is  too  long  a  wait  for 
me.  I'll  come  back. 


3  8  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Have  you  made  up  your  mind  now  what  you 
are  going  to  do,  or  not? 

Voss  (significantly). — Yes,  I  think  I  am  all  straightened  out  with 
myself. 

Madam  Rosenhaaen. — Why,  you  say  that  as  if  you  wanted  to 
prophesy  unpleasant  weather. 

Voss  (already  at  the  door). — That  must  be  a  matter  of  the  wind. 
It's  blowing  in  a  strange  direction.  (He  goes  out  slowly.} 

Madam  Rosenhaaen  (looks  after  him  shaking  her  head). — What 
in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  him? 

Martha  (taciturnly). — You  don't  expect  me  to  know,  grandma. 

Madam  Rosenhaaen. — Didn't  you  talk  to  each  other  pretty  long? 
Didn't  he  say  anything?  How? 

Martha. — No,  nothing. 

Madam  Rosenhaaen. — Such  a  bull-headed  old  fellow!  Wasn't  he 
already  tamed  entirely?  And  now  he  is  as  if  he  were  mad  again. 

Martha  (suddenly  collapses  before  her,  sobs  in  despair}. — Grandma! 
Grandma  1 

Madam  Rosenhaaen  (puts  her  hands  on  Martha's  head). — Child! 
Child! 

Martha  (beside  herself). — Oh,  I  am  so  unhappy !  So  unspeak- 
ably unhappy ! 

Madam  Rosenhaaen. — Can't  get  him?  Is  the  other  girl  going  to 
take  him  away  from  you? 

Martha  (with  suppressed  shriek). — I  cannot  witness  it!  I  simply 
cannot  witness  it ! 

Madam  Rosenhaaen  (caresses  her). — Now  be  calm!    Now  be  quiet! 

Martha  (as  before). — Slink  away!  That's  what  I'd  like  to  do! 
Slink  away ! 

Madam  Rosenhaaen. — That  will  pass  off.  That  will  all  adjust  itself 
again. 

Martha  (as  before). — That  can  never  adjust  itself  again!     Never! 

Madam  Rosenhaaen. — Remember  what  I  say!  That  is  like  a  dream. 
It  amounts  to  nothing! 

Martha  (groaning). — I  am  so  awfully  bad! So  bad!  You 

haven't  any  idea The  worst  of  it  is,  it  can  never  be  made  good. 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (quizzically). — Child! Child!  What  have 

you  done?  Tell  me  the  truth! 

Martha  (quickly  rises,  with  sudden  composure). — I  have  done 
nothing!  I  have  no  reproaches  for  myself!  I  can  answer  for  every- 


MAX  HALBE  39 

thing!      (The  door  at  the  left  is  opened  violently,  KARL  EGON  enters  and 
draws  HERMINE  after  him  by  the  hand.      The  two  are  in  riding  costume.) 

Karl  Egon. — So.     Now  here  we  are  again! 

H ermine  (lively  and  beaming) . — Well,  that  was  a  ride  for  you !  The 
old  women  made  wry  faces  as  we  dashed  by.  We  fairly  went  storming 
along!  Oh,  that  was  fine! 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Now,  that's  another  one  of  those  new  fangled 
institutions,  that  women  get  on  horses.  In  my  day  one  would  have  given 
them  a  fine  look. 

Hermine. — Oh,  mercy!  Let  them  open  their  noses  and  mouths! 
What  do  we  care  ?  You  fly  by.  Tomorrow  you  are  somewhere  else,  and 
day  after  tomorrow  somewhere  else  again. 

Karl  Egon. — Tut !  Tut  1  I  also  have  something  to  say  when  it 
comes  to  that! 

Hermine  (laughing). — You  don't  suppose  that  I  care  to  die  here,  to 
say  nothing  of  living  here? 

Karl  Egon  (seriously) . — A  half  hour  ago  you  did  not  speak  that  way. 

Hermine. — Half  an  hour  ago  I  Good  heavens  I  Why  don't  you 
say  an  eternity  ago,  while  you  are  at  it?  Now  I  am  talking  this  way! 
Isn't  that  plausible  to  you? 

Karl  Egon  (intensely). — No,  that  isn't  plausible  to  me  at  all. 

Hermine. — Don't  be  angry,  my  friend!      Don't  you  be  angry. 

Karl  Egon. — Do  you  expect  me  to  remain  calm  at  that? 

Hermine. — Now  will  you  remove  that  angry  furrow?  Come,  I  will 
wipe  it  away.  (Strokes  his  forehead.) 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (sitting  at  the  table  in  the  center). — Now  tell 
me  all  the  places  where  you  have  been  rousting  about.  I  suppose  you 
were  pretty  far  away? 

Hermine. — Oh,  yes,  that  depends  upon  how  one  looks  at  it.  As  far 
as  the  woods  over  there. 

Karl  Egon.- — I  had  to  show  Hermine  my  whole  territory  for  once, 
you  see,  don't  you? 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (striking  her  hands  together). — You  got  as  far 
as  those  woods?  Is  it  among  the  possibilities? 

Hermine. — Yes,  right  up  to  them.  So  close  that  we  could  seize  the 
twigs.  A  few  steps  more  and  we  should  have  been  right  in  the  pitch  dark 
forest.  I  almost  felt  like  leading  off  your  Egon  for  good. 

Karl  Egon. — You  would  not  have  succeeded  in  doing  that,  sweet- 
heart. Do  not  forget  that  I  am  planted  here  and  have  duties. 

Hermine. — Duties!     A  fine  word!     Shame  on  you! 


40  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Where  you  hail  from,  where  you  are  at  home, 
I  suppose  there  is  nothing  but  pleasure? 

Hermine. — I  am  at  home  nowhere,  Mrs.  Rosenhagen.  As  for  the 
rest,  you  are  quite  right.  I  want  to  enjoy  my  life  as  thoroughly  as  I  can. 
Duties  I  will  relinquish  to  other  people. 

Karl  Egon. — To  you  the  word  may  be  foreign  and  strange.  To  me, 
it  stands  for  my  whole  future. 

Hermine  (steps  up  to  KARL  EGON  as  if  in  jest). — So  you  would  not 
have  allowed  me  to  lead  you  away?  Not  even  if  I  had  tried  good  and 
hard?  Just  imagine  if  I  had  tried  very,  very  hard?  (She  looks  at  him 
alluringly.) 

Karl  Egon  (moved). — Of  course,  it  would  depend  upon  the  course. 

Hermine  (as  before). — Deep  into  the  forests,  to  the  place  where  it 
becomes  light  again,  where  the  world  begins  again.  My  beautiful  world! 

Karl  Egon. — Just  try,  will  you! 

Hermine. — Why,  of  course!  This  very  afternoon!  Or  tomorrow 
morning !  Or  what  I  should  prefer,  at  once !  On  the  spot ! 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Well,  I  do  say,  you  are  not  going  to  get  right 
on  horseback  again,  and  off  with  a  dash  I  Why,  there  is  your  breakfast. 

Hermine  (mysteriously). — I  should  like  to  see  whether  I  can  assert 
my  will. 

Karl  Egon  (seriously). — You  must  consider  that  I  also  have  a  will! 

Hermine. — He  says  that  with  so  much  pride!  As  if  we  women  did 
not  get  the  best  of  all  of  you,  when  we  want  to!  (With  a  sudden  turn 
to  MARTHA.)  Why,  you  aren't  saying  a  thing,  my  dear  Miss.  Don't 
you  think  I  am  right? 

Martha. — Why,  my  opinion  doesn't  amount  to  anything! 

Hermine. — Oh,  yes,  you  are  one  of  those  good,  good  lambs,  that  find 
it  ravishing  to  be  devoured  by  the  wolf. 

Martha  (ironically) . — Do  you  see  how  well  you  know  me ! 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — I  say,  we  women  have  all  had  our  little  legacy 
from  Satan.  That  goes  back  to  the  days  of  paradise. 

Hermine  (to  KARL  EGON  who  has  listened  smiling). — I  might  be 
tempted  to  lock  horns  with  you. 

Karl  Egon. — Why  don't  you?  Why  don't  you?  I  could  not  wish 
for  anything  better. 

Hermine. — Now  then,  when  are  we  going  to  ride  to  our  forests  again? 

Karl  Egon. — Whenever  you  wish  to. 

Hermine. — And  then  I'll  simply  lead  you  away.  Then  good-bye 
home  and  everything! 


MAX  HALBE  41 

Karl  Egon. — How,  do  you  suppose,  you  will  go  about  that? 

Hermine. — Just  wait  until  we  are  in  the  woods ! 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  eternally  talk- 
ing of  your  forests  1  I  never  got  that  far  away.  It  was  always  too  far 
for  me. 

Hermine. — Too  far?  Why,  it  goes  as  if  you  were  flying  when  you 
are  on  horseback. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — I  was  saying,  wasn't  I,  that  in  my  day  horse- 
back was  unknown  around  here  for  women.  I  did  get  to  the  city  in  the 
carriage,  but  those  forests  of  yours  over  there,  I  never  saw  except  at  a 
distance. 

Hermine. — Why,  then  the  most  beautiful  of  all  escaped  you.  Beyond 
them  the  world  really  first  sets  in. 

Karl  Egon. — Oh !  When  a  person  knows  how  that  world  is,  he  can 
get  on  without  it  quite  easily. 

Hermine. — Possibly  you.  Not  I.  Formerly  you  spoke  differently 
too. 

Karl  Egon. — Some  time  a  person  surely  must  find  himself  and  know 
for  what  he  is  cut  out. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Well,  may  be,  some  day  I'll  get  as  far  away 
as  you  young  goslings.  It  isn't  all  over  yet.  What  do  you  say,  Martha, 
shall  we  start  out  and  gad  some  time? 

Martha. — Possibly  the  time  is  soon  at  hand  when  I  shall  get  to  see 
what  lies  back  of  the  forest. 

Hermine  (quickly}. — How's  that?  Are  you  thinking  of  leaving 
Hohenau? 

Martha. — Possibly. 

Hermine. — Wouldn't  it  be  better  for  you,  if  you  remained  here? 

Martha. — You  suppose,  do  you,  that  you  are  the  only  person  who 
has  courage? 

Karl  Egon. — I  think  you  are  acting  strangely  today,  Martha. 

Martha. — You  think  so,  do  you,  Karl?  (She  turns  to  the  rear  to 
go  away.) 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  where  are  you  going  now?  Aren't  you  going  to 
eat  with  us? 

Martha. — Just  eat.  I  have  no  appetite!  (Of  quickly  through 
rear  door  at  right.) 

Karl  Egon  (looks  after  her  for  a  moment,  shakes  his  head,  then 
says) — Well,  what  about  breakfast?  I  am  infernally  hungry. 


^42  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Hermine. — And  may  be  /  am  not.  I'll  just  hurry  and  change  my 
dress  first. 

Karl  Egon. — Why?  Just  remain  as  you  are.  You  look  grand! 
I'd  like  to  kiss  you  right  off ! 

Hermine  (throws  him  a  kiss). — Pst!     You  are  not  to  be  consulted. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — You  needn't  be  embarrassed  on  my  account. 
For  all  I  care  you  can  all  stand  on  your  heads  anyhow.  Nothing  surprises 
me  any  more. 

Hermine. — Hurrah!  That's  just  my  predicament.  When  a  person 
rousts  about  daily  with  bold  painters  or  crack-brained  musicians,  nothing 
seems  funny  to  him  any  more. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Where  in  the  world  is  my  good  friend  Fritz 
all  this  blessed  time?  I  don't  see  him  at  all. 

Hermine  (smiling}. — My  brother?  Good  heavens!  He  remained 
far  behind.  I  think  the  milksop  is  riding  a  nag  for  the  first  time  today. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — If  only  nothing  happens  to  him. 

Hermine. — He  can't  do  more  than  fall  off,  can  he? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — And  break  his  neck! 

Hermine. — Oh,  no,  Freddie  is  too  careful  for  that. 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  it's  clear  that  you  are  not  like  him!  Thunder  and 
lightning!  You  make  the  most  dashing  cavalryman  look  like  a  fool! 

Hermine. — That  has  been  in  my  blood  since  my  childhood. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — I  suppose  a  matter  of  inheritance! 

Hermine. — Yes,  I  am  proud  of  the  fact  that  my  dear  mama  be- 
queathed that  to  me. 

Karl  Egon. — For  that  very  reason  you  will  be  excellently  adapted  to 
the  country.  I  can  see  you  now  playing  the  part  of  the  bold  mistress  of  the 
castle. 

Hermine. — Me,  with  my  Bohemian  blood?  Heavens,  you  are  weak- 
minded!  Why,  they  will  put  me  out  the  very  first  day!  Why,  I  eat  little 
children!  I'll  cast  a  spell  on  your  cattle!  No,  no,  no.  I  am  not  fit  to 
be  among  peasants. 

Karl  Egon  (sharply}. — I  take  it  that  you  are  jesting.  A  person  can 
never  tell  about  you  in  such  matters ! 

Hermine. — Do  you  expect  me  to  sit  here  with  you  and  look  like  a 
blockhead? 

Karl  Egon.' — Moreover  I  look  upon  it  as  an  honor  to  be  called  a 
peasant,  if  that  is  what  you  mean  to  call  me. 

Hermine. — Whew!     What  dignity!     I  humble  myself! 


MAX  HALBE  43 

Madan  Rosenhagen. — And  do  you  expect  to  gig  through  the  world 
by  express  in  this  fashion  all  of  your  life? 

Hermine. — Why  not,  pray  tell?  Wherever  there  is  a  jolly  and  free 
and  easy  time,  there  I  pitch  my  tent.  Six  months  in  Munich,  then  again 
in  Paris  or  in  Rome,  one  has  his  circle  everywhere,  you  know !  Painters, 
actors,  poets!  They  are  the  worst  of  all.  They  immediately  fall  in 
love.  Oh,  it  is  a  wonderfully  crazy  life.  Some  day  or  other  one  turns 
up,  is  received  in  triumph.  Some  day  or  other  one  is  gone  and  the  poets 
follow  one  up  with  the  most  fervent  verses.  But  one  remains  the  maiden 
from  afar,  a  kind  of  Persephone,  whom  no  one  can  hold.  ( To  KARL 
EGON  with  a  coquettish  gesture.)  That's  what  I  like,  my  friend!  And 
now  let  us  eat  breakfast.  I'll  take  your  arm,  Mrs.  Rosenhagen.  (She 
takes  her  arm.) 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (brings  down  her  cane  with  a  thud). — Do  you 
mean  to  insist  by  all  means  upon  making  me  old  and  rickety,  you  young 
rascal? 

Hermine  (escorting  her  to  the  sofa). — How  does  it  feel,  when  a 
person  is  old,  Mrs.  Rosenhagen?  Isn't  that  awfully  monotonous? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Nonsense!  Every  day  means  something  new 
to  me.  I  rejoice  at  every  day,  when  I  awake  and  see  the  sunlight  and  can 
say  to  myself,  I  am  still  on  earth  and  I  am  going  to  stay  on  earth  for  a 
while  yet. 

Hermine. — Strange  I 

Karl  Egon. — Do  you  see,  Hermine,  that's  what  comes  of  living  in 
the  country  and  close  to  nature.  A  person  gets  old  doing  that. 

Hermine. — But  I  don't  want  to  get  old.  I  want  to  stay  young  as 
long  as  it  is  possible.  Here  a  person  rusts  and  sours. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Well,  then  I  must  just  about  be  a  regular  vine- 
gar barrel. 

Hermine. — That  just  depends  upon  who  it  is.  It  wouldn't  do  for 
me.  You  haven't  any  idea  how  I  crave  pleasure.  I  want  to  drain  my 
youth  to  the  dregs.  No  one  is  to  say  of  me  that  I  missed  anything. 

Karl  Egon. — And  some  day,  when  youth  is  gone? 

Hermine. — Then  I'll  climb  the  Finsteraarhorn  and  plunge  down. 

Karl  Egon   (ironically). — Grand! 

Hermine  (looks  at  him  smiling). — I  imagine  that  would  be  very  fine. 
A  moment  and  one  is  gone.  You  can  join  me,  of  course,  if  you  care  to ! 

Karl  Egon  (shaking  his  head). — O  Hermine!  Hermine!  Don't 
feign  being  something  that  you  are  not.  A  person  could  really  get  in 
doubt  about  you. 


44  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Hermine. — Why,  you  don't  know  me  at  all.  You  men  don't  know 
us  any  how.  You  all  form  a  wrong  conception  of  us.  But  we  know  you 

so  well (During  the  preceding  sentences  they  have  taken  their  places 

at  the  table,  the  grandmother  on  the  sofa,  KARL  EGON  and  HERMINE  on 
the  chairs  to  the  right  and  left  of  her,  opposite  each  other.  During  the 
following  sentences,  they  are  eating.} 

Hermine  (tries  to  give  something  to  the  old  woman}. — I  am  going 
to  give  something  to  you,  Mrs.  Rosenhagen. 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (makes  an  impatient  gesture}. — Now  I  have 
enough  of  this  everlasting  mothering!  If  it  doesn't  stop,  I'll  get  up  and 
leave  you  alone.  That's  what  you  would  like. 

Hermine  (eating}. — Oh,  please,  no. 

Karl  Egon  (eating  likewise}. — Your  aim  seems  to  be  to  make  me 
angry  today. 

Hermine. — Must  I  not  make  the  parting  as  easy  as  possible  for  you? 

Karl  Egon  (lays  down  his  knife  and  fork}. — What  parting?  What 
does  that  mean? 

Hermine  (unconstrained}. — Some  time  the  parting  must  indeed  come. 

Karl  Egon  (excited}. — I  really  do  not  understand  you. 

Hermine  (to  the  old  woman}. — Really,  won't  you  have  a  slice  of 
raw  ham?  Quite  delicious. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — When  I  say  no,  I  say  no.  But  you  may  give 
me  a  glass  of  wine.  That  keeps  the  spirits  of  life  awake. 

Karl  Egon  (smiles  as  he  fills  her  glass}. — Or  sometimes  it  may  put 
them  to  sleep,  grandmother. 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (as  she  pensively  touches  her  lips  to  her 
glass}. — It's  with  me  as  it  is  with  our  old  pear  tree  in  the  garden. 

Hermine. — Oh,  yes,  is  it  still  alive? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — It  will  still  outlive  many  a  one.  But  I  was 
going  to  say 

Hermine. — About  the  pear  tree. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — It  also  is  nourished  by  nothing  but  the  dew 
and  rain,  by  what  comes  from  above.  That  is  due  to  the  fact  that  it  has 
grown  so  high  into  the  clouds.  That  it  ever  crawled  out  of  the  soil  down 
there,  it  can  hardly  remember  that  now.  (She  continues  to  sip  pensively, 
gradually  sinks  back  and  falls  asleep.} 

(Short  pause  during  which  they  again  eat.} 

Karl  Egon  (leans  back  in  his  chair}. — Wasn't  that  capital  this  morn- 
ing, Hermine?  The  horseback  ride  through  the  misty  morning? 


MAX  HALBE  45 

Hermine  (likewise  stops  eating,  nods}. — Quite  capital.  Yes.  I 
love  the  morning,  anyhow.  I  am  an  early  riser.  In  the  midst  of  my 
Bohemians  I  have  saved  that  much. 

Karl  Egon. — Yes.  Greatly  to  your  credit.  I  have  never  known  you 
to  do  anything  else. 

Hermine. — I  am  of  the  opinion  that  there  is  nothing  finer  than  one 
of  these  misty  autumn  mornings.  Then  out  into  the  unknown  on  one's 
horse 

Karl  Egon  (joyously}. — Yes,  and  then  say  to  one's  self,  That  is  your 
own  soil  over  which  you  are  riding  along.  No  one  has  any  right  to  inter- 
fere with  you  here.  You  owe  no  one  an  accounting  here  but  yourself,  your 

own  free  master,  your  own  king  and  emperor Hermine,  that  is  a 

feeling  with  which  you  must  come  in  touch.  That  can  be  compared  with 
nothing  on  earth,  with  nothing. 

Hermine  (smiling}. — You  are  still  something  of  a  dreamer.  That 
you  have  kept.  But  it  is  becoming  to  you. 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  shouldn't  one  grow  enthusiastic  once  in  a  while? 
That  is  the  privilege  of  youth. 

Hermine  (meeting  his  eye}. — Yes,  yes,  speak  right  on.  I  like  to  see 
you  that  way.  It  reminds  one  so  much 

Karl  Egon. — Of  what,  pray  tell? 

Hermine. — Of  wild  little  Egon,  and  the  still  smaller  and  cute  Her- 
mine. 

Karl  Egon. — Wasn't  that  splendid,  back  in  those  days? 

Hermine. — And  that  is  why  it  will  never  return. 

Karl  Egon. — It  is  going  to  return  now,  more  beautiful  than  ever. 

Hermine. — No,  no,  now  we  are  grown  up  and  each  one  of  us  has  his 
own  peculiar  hobby.  I  am  a  perverse  Bohemian  roaming  through  the 
world  and  you  are  an  honorable  estate  owner  who  breeds  swine.  How 
could  the  two  ever  get  together? 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  that  is  the  sheerest  nonsense.  Heaven  knows  that 
I  have  an  intelligent  interest  in  some  things  besides  the  breeding  of  swine. 
Moreover  the  breeding  of  swine  is  a  good  thing 

Hermine. — Yes,  that  raw  ham  was  delicious.  Did  you  raise  that 
yourself? 

Karl  Egon  (laughing  in  a  way} . — Now  do  be  a  bit  serious. 

Hermine. — I  am  as  serious  as  a  tomb. 

Karl  Egon. — I  tell  you,  Hermine,  you  can't  imagine  what  a  strange 
fascination  attaches  to  a  soil  that  one's  father  and  grandfather  have 
already  sown  and  harvested. 


46  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Hermine. — And  so,  for  that  reason  one  sits  down  in  his  four  walls 
and  vegetates  right  along  like  his  father  and  grandfather!  Greatest 
respect  I 

Karl  Egon. — No  I  If  you  think  that,  you  are  entirely  on  the  wrong 
track!  I  certainly  conceive  of  my  life  as  being  different  from  that  of  my 
ancestors.  I  want  to  arrange  it  as  large  and  free  and  above  all  things  as 
beautiful  as  possible.  You  see,  the  fathers  could  not  do  that.  They  had 
to  acquire  and  get  all  of  it  together  first.  They  had  the  struggle.  They 
did  not  get  to  the  point  of  rest  and  enjoyment.  And  therefore  everything 
had  to  remain  as  little,  narrow  and  as  limited  as  you  see  it  now!  That  is 
to  change  now.  Now  a  new  time  is  coming. 

Hermine. — And  you  want  to  bring  that  about? 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  I.  For  myself  and  those  who  depend  upon  me. 
That  also,  you  know,  the  fathers  were  not  able  to  do.  They  had  to  think 
of  themselves.  They  had  to  get  ahead  first.  That  is  my  advantage  now. 
I  can  incidentally  also  think  of  others. 

Hermine. — I  say,  that's  maddeningly  thankless. 

Karl  Egon. — You  know  it  is  my  intention  to  make  my  people  here  at 
Hohenau  over  into  something  like  human  beings.  What  do  you  say  to 
that? 

Hermine  (laughs  aloud}. — Oh,  you  poor  fellow,  you! 

Karl  Egon  (as  before}. — Yes!  Yes!  But  a  beginning  must  be 
made  sometime.  There  is  enormously  much  to  do  here  still,  anyhow. 

Hermine  (lightly}. — What  incredible  plans  you  have! 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  I  should  like  to  show  my  countrymen  for  once,  how 
much  you  can  get  out  of  the  soil  and  out  of  people,  if  you  have  a  few  ideas 
and  the  proper  spirit.  Why,  everything  is  so  crude  here  still.  All  that 
is  necessary  is  to  bring  the  forces  together  for  once.  For  that  reason, 
in  the  first  place,  I  shall  build  the  distillery. 

Hermine. — And  the  crown  of  it  all,  I  suppose,  the  castle  is  expected 
to  be.  Isn't  it? 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  that  is  the  crown  of  it  all.  That  is  the  sunlight 
on  the  picture. 

Hermine. — Are  you  going  to  keep  house  there  so  entirely  alone?  I 
imagine  that  would  be  awfully  tedious. 

Karl  Egon  (impatiently}. — But  I  do  say,  Hermine,  how  can  you  ask 
such  a  question?  Why,  for  whom  am  I  going  to  build  my  castle? 

Hermine  (shrugging  her  shoulders}. — How  can  I  know  that? 

Karl  Egon — Of  course  I  am  going  to  build  it  for  you!  For  you! 
Just  imagine  when  our  new  castle  will  stand  over  there  beyond  the  mill 


MAX  HALBE  47 

race!  Can  one  not  live  proudly  and  freely  even  there?  Freer  than  out 
yonder?  Can't  one  forget  the  world  there?  Doesn't  that  tempt  you? 

Hermine  (dreaming}. — So  a  real,  actual  castle  Karl  Egon  is  going 
to  build  for  himself?  See!  Seel 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  with  everything  that  belongs  to  it. 

Hermine  (dreaming  and  swaying  back  and  forth}. — With  sparkling 
windows,  in  the  morning  sunshine 

Karl  Egon  (bends  over  the  table  to  her}. — And  with  a  beautiful  mis- 
tress in  it. 

Hermine  (smiles  at  him}. — Who  in  the  world  may  that  be? 

Karl  Egon  (fervently}. — You!     You!     You! 

Hermine  (swaying  to  and  fro}. — Beautiful  Rothtraut  through  the 
deep  forest  rode Do  you  know  that,  Egon? 

Karl  Egon. — Hermine,  now  I  shall  no  longer  let  you Give  me 

your  hand!  Tell  me.  Tell  me  finally (He  extends  his  hand  over 

the  table  to  her.} 

Hermine. — Pst!  Don't  you  see?  Grandmother  has  gone  to  sleep. 
Don't  disturb  her. 

Karl  Egon. — Oh,  she  does  not  wake  up  so  quickly  when  she  has  had 
her  wine.  That  happens  to  her  quite  often  now. 

Hermine. — Just  wait  until  we  are  that  far  along.  I  don't  believe 
that  any  body  will  be  able  to  awaken  us  any  more  then.  I  hope  she  is  lying 
comfortably? 

Karl  Egon  (absent  minded}. — Yes, 'yes,  never  mind  her. 

Hermine  (carried  away  at  the  sight  of  the  old  woman}. — To  live  a 
whole  century  as  she  has.  Isn't  that  like  a  miracle,  Egon? 

Karl  Egon. — Hermine,  you  still  owe  me  your  answer. 

Hermine  (without  paying  attention}. — A  whole  century.  And  here 
at  Hohenau  besides.  That  requires  a  constitution.  I  believe  I  should 
grow  horns  or  some  other  horrible  thing.  Wouldn't  you  too,  Egon? 

Karl  Egon  (becoming  angry}. — I  see  you  are  making  light  of  me! 

Hermine  (innocently}. — I?     How  so? 

Karl  Egon  (angrily}. — Yes,  you  are  playing  with  me!  I  feel  that 
more  and  more  definitely. 

Hermine   (stubbornly}. — Or  you  are  playing  with  me. 

Karl  Egon  (forced  to  laugh} . — /  with  you?  Heavens!  Since  when 
have  the  mice  been  playing  with  the  cat? 

Hermine. — Do  you  put  so  low  a  value  upon  yourself? 

Karl  Egon. — Oh,  in  dealing  with  you  women,  all  of  us  are  powerless, 
of  course. 


48  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Hermine  (smiling  at  him  over  the  table}. — O  you  foolish,  foolish, 
foolish  Egon.  You! 

Karl  Egon  (carried  away}. — Hermine,  how  beautiful  you  are! 

Hermine  (as  before}. — And  you  are  so  foolish,  so  foolish,  so  foolish, 
that  you  cannot  even  see  your  fortune. 

Karl  Egon  (jumps  up} . — Hermine!     Dearest! 

Hermine  (her  finger  on  her  mouth}. — Pst!  Be  a  good  boy!  Don't 
awaken  grandmother!  It  is  a  whole  century  that  is  sleeping  there. 

Karl  Egon  (with  desperate  gaiety} . — Yes,  the  old  century.  We  will 
create  a  new  one  for  ourselves. 

Hermine. — You  are  to  remain  quietly  in  your  chair,  or  else  I  shall 
go  away  at  once. 

Karl  Egon  (sits  down  again}. — You  are  setting  me  crazy,  Hermine. 

Hermine, — That's  just  what  you  deserve.  Didn't  you  promise  me, 
by  all  that  is  holy,  that  you  would  go  out  into  the  world  with  me  if  I  should 
come  and  get  you?  Here  I  am  now! 

Karl  Egon  (lost  in  her  presence}. — Yes,  just  as  the  fairy  queen  in 
the  fairy  tale 

Hermine. — Quite  right.  Who  came  to  Tom  the  Rhymster.  He 
was  also  just  such  a  big,  foolish  lubber  who  pledged  his  head  for  a  kiss 
from  the  fairy  queen,  and  then  would  not  recognize  his  good  fortune  when 
she  came  to  get  him.  But  that  was  of  no  avail  to  him.  She  took  him 
along  into  her  fairy  kingdom,  she  took  him  along  and  fairly  kissed  him  to 
death,  the  foolish  boy. 

Karl  Egon. — Hermine!  Hermine!  (He  starts  from  his  chair 
again.} 

Hermine  (with  lifted  finger}. — Pst!  Be  a  good  boy!  Keep  your 
seat !  Make  good  your  promise  first ! 

Karl  Egon. — And  what  if  I  can  not? 

Hermine. — But  you  must.     You  simply  must. 

Karl  Egon. — What  in  the  world  do  you  expect  of  me?  What  are 
you  planning  to  do  with  me?  Do  you  know  that  I  could  hate  you? 

Hermine  (flattering} . — I  will  make  you  great  and  famous.  I  will 
give  you  a  task  that  is  worth  while.  You  shall  play  a  part  in  the  world. 

And  I  with  you Do  you  hear,  I  with  you Or  we  will  travel. 

We'll  travel.  Or  we  will  live  somewhere  quietly,  all  to  ourselves,  in  Paris 
or  in  Italy  or  somewhere.  Only  not  here.  Not  here.  Not  in  this  world, 
which  I  hate,  which  I  hate! 

Karl  Egon  (frightened} . — Hermine ! 


MAX  HALBE  49 

Hermine  (with  suppressed  passion). — Yes,  which  I  hate  as  much  as 
one  can  at  all  hate  a  thing! 

Karl  Egon  (jumps  up). — Stop!  Stop!  I  can  no  longer  follow  you 
in  that. 

Hermine  (rises  likewise). — Well,  why  not?  Is  it  so  preposterous, 
what  you  are  expected  to  do?  (She  steps  up  close  to  him  whispering  im- 
pressively.) Egon !  Dearest !  Why  what  has  become  of  your  courage? 
Where  is  your  pride?  All  stifled  in  fat!  All  choked  in  philistinism! 
Look  into  my  eyes,  my  darling! 

Karl  Eaon  (struggling  with  himself}. — Do  not  make  me  wild, 
Hermine ! 

Hermine  (with  ardent  flattery). — Look  into  my  eyes,  my  darling! 
Tell  me  that  you  are  going  with  me ! 

Karl  Egon  (stands  struggling  with  himself  violently,  as  if  he  wanted 
to  draw  her  to  him,  but  controls  himself  with  a  sudden  start) . — I  can  not, 
Hermine. 

Hermine   (whispering). — You  can  not? 

Karl  Egon. — No,  I  can  not,  and  above  all  I  do  not  want  to.  I  do  not 
wish  to  be  under  obligations  to  anyone  else  for  what  I  am  and  what  I 
represent. 

Hermine. — Not  even  to  me? 

Karl  Egon. — No,  not  even  to  you !  Least  of  all  to  you !  I  want  to 
shape  my  life  myself,  great  or  small,  just  as  it  has  been  granted  to  me,  but 
at  any  rate  on  my  own  initiative  and  not  as  the  creature  of  any  one,  least 
of  all  of  you. 

Hermine  (bitterly). — Is  that  your  great  love? 

Karl  Egon  (firmly}. — Just  because  I  love  you  so  much,  that  is  why 
I  do  not  want  to  be  your  creature. 

Hermine. — Since  when  have  you  been  so  proud? 

Karl  Egon. — Since  I  have  a  goal  and  a  mission  ahead  of  me.  Don't 
you  understand  that,  dearest? 

Hermine  ( turns  away ) . — Do  not  call  me  that ! 

Karl  Egon   (tenderly). — Hermine ? 

Hermine  (stamps  her  foot}. — Don't  call  me  that  any  more!  I  will 
not  have  it! 

(The  door  at  the  left  is  opened  violently.) 

Fritz  Diesterkamp  (storms  in  beaming,  with  hair  dishevelled  and  torn 
waistcoat,  open  all  the  way  down}. — What  an  experience!  What  an 
experience ! 


5o  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Hermine  (strikes  her  hands  together}. — Why,  how  you  look!  How 
you  look! 

Fritz. — Why  of  course,  you  have  no  idea  what  happened  to  me.  It 
was  great.  Just  imagine 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (has  awaked  during  the  last  sentence,  rubs  her 
eyes,  and  grumbles  to  herself). — Why,  what  does  all  of  this  racket  mean? 
I  suppose  there's  a  fire  somewhere? 

Hermine  (to  FRITZ). — Do  you  see,  that's  what  comes  of  your  stupid 
howling.  Now  you  have  awakened  grandmother.  Go  right  on  and 
excuse  yourself  for  your  awkwardness. 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (has  meanwhile  become  wide  awake). — You 
suppose,  do  you,  that  I  have  been  sleeping? 

Hermine  (roguishly). — Just  a  bit,  Mrs.  Rosenhagen,  just  a  little  bit. 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (draws  FRITZ,  who  has  been  standing  near  her, 
up  to  her  by  his  sleeve). — Just  come  here  a  bit,  you  young  gosling,  you. 
Let  me  look  you  over. 

Fritz  (beaming). — Don't  I  look  fine? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Ravishing.  In  what  gutter  have  you  been 
wallowing? 

Hermine. — Well,  why  don't  you  sail  in? 

Fritz. — Well,  then,  to  begin  with,  just  imagine,  just  imagine,  I  fell 
from  my  horse! 

Hermine. — Didn't  I  have  an  idea  you  would? 

Fritz. — Isn't  that  monumental,  isn't  it  glacier  like?  To  have  fallen 
from  your  horse  the  first  time  in  your  life ! 

Hermine. — Yes,  because  it  is  the  first  time  in  your  life  that  you  have 
been  on  a  horse.  Because  you  have  never  had  the  courage  before. 

Fritz  (of ended). — I  beg  your  pardon.  You  just  go  through  with 
what  I  have  just  gone  through  and  then  talk.  When  I  tell  my  classmates 

about  that Well,  I  do  say!  Most  of  them  can't  tell  a  horse  from  a 

cow. 

Hermine. — Well,  why  don't  you  tell  how  you  went  about  it  all  ? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — He  probably  reined  up  the  horse  by  the  tail. 
The  confounded  beasts  won't  have  that. 

Fritz  (with  animation). — Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon!  At  first  it  went 
fine.  I  leaned  forward 

Hermine  (derisively). — Leaned  forward! Aha! 

Fritz. — Excuse  me!  That's  the  way  all  the  aborigines  ride,  isn't  it? 
Just  read  Xenophon's  Anabasis.  Of  course,  you  know  nothing  about  that. 


MAX  HALBE  51 

But  if  you  suddenly  break  into  such  an  insane  gallop,  a  fellow  can't  help 
but  fall  off. 

H ermine. — I  suppose  you  tried  to  catch  up  with  us? 

Fritz' — Not  I,  but  the  bay.  He  wanted  to  follow  by  all  means.  He 
tore  along  as  if  mad !  Then  I  got  on  my  ear  and  said  to  myself,  "See  here, 
my  little  nag !  Let's  see  who  is  master,  I  or  you,"  and  I  drew  up  the  reins ! 

Hermine. — Yes,  and  tore  the  mouth  of  the  horse. 

Fritz  (meekly). — What  do  I  know!  All  at  once  I  was  lying  at  the 
side  of  the  road.  My  bay,  of  course,  on  and  away,  who  knows  where? 
That  is  the  worst  of  it.  Now  I'll  catch  it  from  Egon. 

Karl  Egon  (still  in  the  background,  lost  in  thought,  looks  up,  and 
turns  half  way  around) . — He  will  find  his  way  to  the  stable  all  right,  when 
he  has  had  his  fill. 

Hermine. — And  my  little  brother  had  to  walk,  eh  ? 

Fritz. — That  is  just  what  I  wanted  to  tell.     That  is  the  main  thing. 

Hermine. — Why,  aren't  you  through  yet? 

Fritz. — Not  a  bit  of  it!  The  main  experience  came  to  me  just  as  I 
was  walking  over.  Why,  was  I  attacked! 

Hermine. — What  were  you? 

Fritz. — Don't  you  understand  English?  I  was  attacked  because  I 
tried  to  cross  a  meadow.  I  had  to  give  up  my  hat.  Isn't  that  phenome- 
nal? What  kind  of  a  figure  do  I  cut  now? 

Karl  Egon  (has  turned  around  quickly,  comes  forward). — You  were 
attacked?  By  whom,  pray  tell? 

Fritz. — By  an  old  crosspatch  of  a  farmer!  I  believe  he  lives  next 
to  you.  (He  points  out  toward  the  right.) 

Karl  Egon  (starting  up). — Surely  not  by  Voss? What  did  he 

look  like? 

Fritz. — Well,  without  a  beard,  with  bushy  white  eyebrows.  A  regu- 
lar Isengrim !  That's  the  way  I  imagine  Cato  the  Elder,  or  some  one  of 
that  type  looked. 

Karl  Egon  (excited). — That  is  Voss!  No  question  about  it!  That 

is  Voss! Another  one  of  his  fine  tricks!  (He  goes  to  and  fro 

violently.) 

Hermine  (scornfully). — Pleasant  neighborhood,  that  you  have  here. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Oh,  that  has  been  going  on  for  sixty  years! 
That's  all  that  I  am  accustomed  to  any  more. 

Karl  Egon  (goes  to  and  fro). — But  I  am  not  in  a  temper  to  take  that 
any  longer.  That  state  of  affairs  must  come  to  an  end.  (He  controls 


52  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

himself,  and  approaches  again.}  Tell  me,  what  meadow  was  that? 
Surely  not  that  one  out  there. 

Fritz. — That  may  be  very  well.  But  farther  over  that  way  I  (Points 
toward  the  right}.  Not  far  from  the  next  farmhouse. 

Karl  Egon  (with  suppressed  anger}. — Yes,  yes,  quite  right.  That 
is  Voss's  meadow  land!  Voss's  meadow  land!  (With  sudden  interrup- 
tion.} That  is,  so  he  asserts.  That's  what  he  asserts.  In  reality  the 
case  is  quite  different.  In  reality  the  strip  does  not  belong  to  him  at  all, 
of  course.  We  know  that  much. 

Hermine  (surprised}. — How  can  your  lordly  neighbor  attack  my 
brother,  if  the  meadow  does  not  belong  to  him? 

Karl  Egon. — That's  just  the  funny  thing  about  it.  He  is  not  as  daft 
about  anything  as  he  is  about  this  very  piece  of  land,  and  concerning  this 
piece  of  land  I  can  prove  to  him,  if  I  care  to,  that  he  has  no  claim  to  it  at 
all. 

Hermine. — Why  in  the  world  don't  you  do  it,  then? 

Karl  Egon  (shrugging  his  shoulders}. — Because,  up  to  the  present 
I  have  not  cared  to.  There  is  still  time  for  that. 

Hermine. — You  poor  fellow !  Then  you  can  not  venture  three  steps 
from  your  own  house  in  the  future.  Is  that  your  fine  freedom  and 
splendor? 

Karl  Egon. — Preposterous!  And  with  all  that  a  public  highway 
leads  through  the  meadow.  By  the  way,  didn't  you  tell  him  who  you  were, 
and  whom  you  are  visiting? 

Fritz. — Well,  may  be  I  didn't !  But  then  he  became  more  rabid  than 
ever,  just  as  if  he  wanted  to  slap  me.  Well,  I  tell  you,  I  looked  at  him 
from  top  to  toe  when  he  did  that.  He  forgot  all  about  slapping.  All  he 
did  then  was  to  take  my  hat  away. 

Karl  Egon  (going  to  and  fro}. — So  that's  the  way  matters  stand? 
That  opens  up  bright  prospects  for  our  agreement  of  sale!  This  is  the 
day,  of  course,  when  his  time  for  deliberation  is  up.  I  wonder  whether 
that  is  intended  for  his  answer?  Do  you  know  at  all,  grandmother, 
whether  he  has  been  here? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Voss  was  here  half  an  hour  ago,  a  short  time 
before  you  came.  Why,  Martha  spoke  to  him  for  a  long  while. 

Karl  Egon  (shaking  his  head} . — Strange  !  Somebody  must  have  put 
something  in  his  head.  Why,  I  had  him  quite  pliable  already. 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (gets  up  groaning}. — Oh,  this  old  frame  of 
bones !  After  all  an  old  person  is  good  for  nothing. 

Fritz  (runs  up  to  her}. — Shall  I  help  you? 


MAX  HALBE  53 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — I  seem  to  myself  like  an  old  barn  door.  That, 
too,  is  only  partly  on  its  hinges  still. 

Hermine. — But  why  do  you  want  to  get  up  already,  Mrs.  Rosen- 
hagen ? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Because  I  don't  care  to  sit  any  longer  I 

Fritz  (has  taken  her  arm). — I'll  lead  you  a  bit. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — For  all  I  care.  We  are  suited  to  each  other 
quite  well,  you  and  I.  The  beginning  and  the  end  are  always  suited  to 
each  other.  (She  takes  a  few  steps  on  FRITZ'S  arm  and  stops.)  I  say  I 
Karl! 

Karl  Eg  on  (has  been  going  up  and  down,  approaches). — What  is  it, 
grandmother? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — If  you  want  to  take  a  bit  of  advice  from  an 
old  woman,  look  out  for  Voss.  Don't  have  anything  to  do  with  him. 

Karl  Egon. — Don't  worry,  grandmother.  I'll  settle  him  well  enough. 
This  way  or  that! 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (already  at  the  door). —  I  hope  you  are  not 

reckoning  without  the  host ! (To  FRITZ.)  Now.  Never  mind  now. 

Now  I'll  manage  to  creep  on  alone.  (She  lets  go  of  his  arm  and  goes  out.) 

Fritz. — And  /  must  go,  too. 

Hermine. — Yes,  don't  forget  to  change  your  clothes. 

Fritz  (whipping  and  cracking  his  fingers) . — Well,  wasn't  that  a  ripper 
today! 

Hermine  (as  if  incidentally). — You  may  pack  your  things,  while  you 
are  at  it.  We  are  going  away  today. 

Fritz  (in  the  door  with  mouth  wide  open). — Pack  my  things? 

Karl  Egon  (frightened). — Hermine! 

Hermine  (smiling  to  FRITZ). — Yes,  yes,  pack  your  things!  We  are 
going  away. 

Fritz  (pouting). — Go  away  now,  just  when  it's  beginning  to  get  fine! 

Hermine. — This  is  not  the  last  time  that  that  will  happen  to  you  in 
life. 

Fritz  (in  a  rage). — And  I  say,  that's  simply  a  vile  trick!  I  have 
something  to  say  when  it  comes  to  that. 

Hermine. — You  are  to  be  quiet  and  pack  your  things.  We  are  going 
away  this  very  day. 

Fritz. — And  I  am  not  going  to  allow  myself  to  be  treated  like  a  mere 
kid.  I  am  a  senior,  remember  that ! 

Karl  Egon. — Just  be  quiet  now  and  go  to  your  room.  Hermine  will 
not  go  away. 


54  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Fritz  (surprised). — Well,  that  makes  me  curious! 

H ermine  (defiantly). — And  me! 

Fritz. — I  tell  you,  when  she  takes  anything  into  her  head ! 

Karl  Egon. — We'll  see  about  that. 

Fritz. — But  you  are  quite  right.  We  men  must  stick  together.  The 
women  are  becoming  bolder  every  day. 

Karl  Egon  (has  controlled  his  anger  with  difficulty  during  the  pre- 
ceding sentences,  now  steps  up  to  HERMINE  with  decision). — Hermine,  are 
you  serious  about  that? 

Hermine  (sitting  at  the  sofa  table). — Wait  and  see. 

Karl  Egon. — You  would  inflict  that  upon  me? 

Hermine. — It  will  have  to  come  some  time  at  any  rate. 

Karl  Egon  (tenderly). — Hermine,  look  at  me. 

Hermine  (without  moving). — Why,  pray  tell?  Don't  I  know  your 
face  by  heart? 

Karl  Egon  (angrily). — You  are  to  look  at  me,  Hermine! 

Hermine  (surprised,  looking  at  him  only  partially). — What  kind  of 
a  manner  is  that?  How  are  you  talking  to  me? 

Karl  Egon  (seizes  her  hand  and  draws  her  up  from  her  chair  vio- 
lently). — You  are  to  look  into  my  eyes  and  answer! 

Hermine  (leaving  her  hand  in  his,  she  stands  opposite  him). — Why, 
you  hurt  me! 

Karl  Egon. — Aren't  you  hurting  me?     Now  listen  to  me. 

Hermine  (looking  into  his  eyes  while  he  holds  her  hands). — So  the 
master  commands,  and  the  slave  is  to  obey. 

Karl  Egon. — Why  did  you  come  here,  Hermine? 

Hermine  (lowers  her  eyes  before  his  scrutiny). — Why,  I  have  c 

(Stops  involuntarily.) 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  I  ask  you  why  you  have  come  here ?  Answer 

that  question  for  me ! 

Hermine  (evasively). — Wasn't  that  agreed  upon?  And  then  in 
addition,  the  bereavement. 

Karl  Egon. — So  it  was  simply  to  condole  with  me  on  the  death  of  my 
father  and  then  to  go  away  post-haste.  Do  you  really  believe  that  your- 
self? 

Hermine. — No,  why  should  I  lie?  You  know,  of  course.  To  take 
you  away. 

Karl  Egon  (keeping  his  eyes  fixed  upon  hers). — And  why  do  you  want 
to  take  me  away? 


MAX  HALBE  55 

H ermine  (restless)  . — Let  go  of  me  now.  I  must  have  black  and  blue 
spots  before  now. 

Karl  Egon  (as  before). — Why  did  you  want  to  take  me  away? 

Hermine  (derisively,  as  if  trying  to  control  her  rising  emotion). — 
Because  I  am  sorry  for  you,  you  poor  fellow,  you ! 

Karl  Egon  (ardently). — Because  you  love  me,  that  is  the  reason  you 
came.  Because  you  love  me! 

Hermine  (as  before). — Do  you  feel  so  certain,  my  friend? 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  because  you  love  me  1  Deny  it  ten  times  over,  I 
am  certain  of  it. 

Hermine  (smiles  at  him). — Oh,  you  big  foolish  boy  I 

Karl  Egon. — And  what  is  more,  because  you  love  me,  you  will  remain. 
That  is  why  you  will  remain! Do  you  hear? 

Hermine. — Heavens,  how  vain  you  men  are?  For  your  sake  one  is 
expected  to  sacrifice  his  beautiful,  golden  freedom.  Simply  so  you  can 
make  one  the  honorable  mistress  of  an  estate !  How  vain  you  are  1 

Karl  Egon  (devouring  her  with  his  eyes,  and  still  holding  her  hands). 
Do  not  stir  me  up  now,  Hermine.  You  are  in  my  power.  I  can  punish 
you. 

Hermine  (challenging). — Why  don't  you  try  to?  Why  don't  you 
try  to  ? 

Karl  Egon  (as  before). — Oh,  Hermine! 

Hermine  (almost  disappointed). — Do  you  see?  You  do  not 
dare 1 

Karl  Egon  (lets  her  hands  go,  stands  struggling  with  himself). — Do 
not  play  with  me,  Hermine  1 

Hermine. — Haven't  I  told  you  long  ago,  you  should  not  trust  me?  I 
am  quite  base  and  cowardly  and  false.  False  as  a  cat.  Why  do  you  trust 
me? 

Karl  Egon  (looking  at  her). — And  with  all  that,  these  deep,  deep 
eyes 1 

Hermine  (enticing). — They  lie  most  of  all.  The  best  thing  that  I 
can  do  is  to  put  my  hand  over  them.  Then  you  will  not  see  them.  (She 
puts  her  hands  over  her  eyes,  and  darts  glances  at  him  between  her  fingers.) 

Karl  Egon  (losing  control). — Now  not  even  a  god  will  help  you! 
(He  presses  her  to  himself  and  kisses  her  passionately.) 

Hermine  (in  his  arms). — Don't  kiss!     Don't  kiss! 

Karl  Egon. — More  than  ever!  More  than  ever!  You  are  blind, 
aren't  you? 

Hermine  (as  before). — Do  you  love  me? 


5 6  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Karl  Egon  (with  a  long  kiss). — So  much!     So  much! 

H ermine  (coaxing). — Then  you  will  promise  me,  will  you  not,  to  go 
with  me ? 

Karl  Egon  (shrinks  back  and  lets  go  of  her) . — Are  you  beginning 
again? 

H  ermine  (leans  up  against  him). — You  will  promise  me  to  go  with 
me.  Do  you  hear,  dearest?  Please,  please,  please  1 

Karl  Egon  (he  draws  her  down  on  his  chair,  sits  down  beside  her  and 
says  firmly). — Not  another  word  about  that,  Hermine!  You  belong  to 
me  now  and  you  are  going  to  stay  with  me  1 

Hermine  (leans  against  him  and  looks  up  to  him). — I  suppose  I  am 
expected  to  obey  now? 

Karl  Egon. — I  do  say  you  are  expected  to. 

Hermine. — And  what  if  I  don't  want  to  ? 

Karl  Egon. — You  must! 

Hermine  (strangely). — Do  you  see  how  cowardly  I  am? 

Karl  Egon  (jumps  up). — Oh,  I  am  so  very  happy!  I  would  not 
exchange  places  with  any  king  or  emperor. 

Hermine  (constantly  as  if  on  the  watch). — My  big  boy  would  like  to 
play  king  a  bit  himself,  I  suppose  ?  1 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  and  I  have  chosen  you  to  be  my  queen. 

Hermine. — Kinglet  and  queenlet! 

Karl  Egon. — Did  it  seem  so  narrow  and  small  to  you  when  we  were 
riding  over  my  fields  and  meadows  today? 

Hermine. — And  when  the  doughty  thane  Fritz  was  captured  by  an 
evil  king  of  the  border  and  had  to  pay  a  heavy  ransom? 

Karl  Egon  (excited). — Is  it  necessary  for  you  to  remind  me  of  it? 
Do  you  suppose  I  have  forgotten  it  ? 

Hermine  (scornfully). — Why,  one  can  talk  about  that.  Aren't  these 
affairs  of  state  here  in  your  empire? 

Karl  Egon. — Just  scoff !  My  empire  is  large  enough  and  soon  it  will 
be  still  larger!  Voss  shall  not  lie  in  ambush  for  us  much  longer!  He 
will  have  to  make  room ! 

Hermine. — Room  for  Egon  I. 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  and  then  there  will  be  no  other  master  far  and  wide 
but  me  and  you !  The  two  of  us !  I  tell  you  that  will  be  a  life ! 

Martha  (opens  the  rear  door  at  the  right  and  enters  a  few  steps). — 
Mr.  Voss  is  here,  Karl.  Shall  I  send  him  in? 

Karl  Egon  (turns  around  absent  mindedly) . — What's  up?  Who  is 
here? 


MAX  HALBE  57 

Martha  (coldly). — Excuse  me,  if  I  have  disturbed  you.  I  did  not 
know  that  you  were  alone. 

H ermine  (quickly). — No,  no,  it's  a  good  thing,  that  you  have  come. 

Martha. — Well,  what  am  I  to  say  to  Mr.  Voss? 

Hermine. — Just  send  in  the  hostile  king.     I  will  retreat. 

Martha. — Please,  Mr.  Voss,  my  cousin  is  already  waiting  anxiously. 

^055  (enters  with  a  curt  greeting). — Bid  you  good  morning! 

Hermine  (bows  her  head). — Good  morning,  your  majesty  of  the 
neighboring  kingdom!  And  at  the  same  time — Adieu!  (She  quickly 
departs  to  the  left.) 

(MARTHA  also  withdraws  after  a  long  look  at  the  group.) 

(Pause.) 

Voss  (looks  after  HERMINE). — That  is  the  young  lady  that  formerly 
visited  here  frequently,  is  it  not? 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  a  friend  of  my  childhood  days. 

Voss. — I  suppose  something  is  in  prospect  in  that  connection? 

Karl  Egon. — I  don't  understand  you. 

Voss. — An  engagement  or  something  of  that  kind. 

Karl  Egon  (shaking  his  head). — They  aren't  gossiping  in  the  village 
about  it,  are  they? 

Voss  (craftily). — Because,  you  know,  you  are  intending  to  dash  up 
one  of  these  grand  castles  over  on  my  side,  on  the  other  side  of  the  mill 
race !  A  fellow  doesn't  do  that  kind  of  a  thing  without  a  purpose. 

Karl  Egon  (surprised). — How  in  the  world  do  you  manage  to  know 
that  already? 

Voss  ( eagerly ) . — So  it  is  true  ? 

Karl  Egon. — Strange,  how  all  that  is  noised  about ! 

Voss  (calmly  with  fixed  purpose)  . — A  person  has  his  people  for  that, 
you  know! 

Karl  Egon. — Won't  you  take  a  seat,  Mr.  Voss? 

Voss. — What  I  have  to  say  can  be  settled  standing.  ( The  two 
stand  opposite  each  other,  Voss  at  the  table  in  the  center,  KARL  EGON  at 
the  sofa  table.) 

Karl  Egon. — Well,  have  you  made  up  your  mind?  Are  you  going 
to  accept  my  proposition? 

Voss  (quite  calm  externally)  . — No !  I  have  thought  the  matter  over. 
I  am  not  going  to  sell. 

Karl  Egon  (perplexed). — Not  going  to  sell? 


5  8  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Foss. — No,  I  am  going  to  stay  where  I  am  I  I  am  not  going  to  sell 
my  place  1 

Karl  Egon. — And  have  you  thought  the  matter  over  thoroughly,  Mr. 
Voss? 

Foss. — Am  I  a  whipper-snapper?     I  guess  I'm  old  enough! 

Karl  Egon  (excited). — But  for  heaven's  sake,  man!  Do  you  really 
know  what  is  at  stake  ?  Eighty  thousand  marks  is  a  fortune !  That  is 
more  by  one  half  than  the  place  is  worth! 

Foss. — May  be,  may  be  not!  It  depends  upon  what  is  to  be  done 
with  the  place.  If,  for  instance,  a  fellow  is  going  to  put  a  great  castle 
there,  or  heaven  knows  what 

Karl  Egon. — So  the  price  is  too  low  to  suit  you? 

Foss. — Not  too  low  and  not  too  high.  I  am  going  to  remain  in  my 
house,  and  that  settles  it !  What  do  I  care  for  the  money !  What  I  need 
for  a  living,  I  have.  And  in  case  of  death,  it  is  even  too  much! 

Karl  Egon. — Day  before  yesterday  you  said  the  reverse. 

Foss. — Can't  a  person  change  his  mind?  A  fellow  can  surely  allow 
himself  to  be  wheedled  half  way  and  come  to  himself  again. 

Karl  Egon. — Do  you  mean  to  say  I  have  wheedled  you?  Haven't  I 

offered  you  the  highest  price  conceivable? Who  knows  who  has 

wheedled  you ? 

Foss. — I'm  not  in  favor  of  quarreling.  I  simply  say  I  have  slept  on 
your  proposition  once  more  and  here  is  my  answer! 

Karl  Egon. — And  that  is  to  settle  it? 

Foss. — Yes,  that  will  stand.     I  will  not  go  back  on  that. 

(Pause.) 

Karl  Egon  (walks  across  the  hall,  struggling  with  his  excitement). — 
Well,  we  can  get  ready  for  a  fine  state  of  siege,  then. 

Foss. — It  is  all  the  same  to  me.  I  have  been  accustomed  to  that  all 
of  my  blessed  life. 

Karl  Egon  (sharply). — Yes,  of  course,  you  cannot  live  without  quar- 
reling. Everybody  knows  that.  But  why  I  should  suffer  from  that,  why 
I  should  have  my  beautiful  life  spoiled  by  your  pig-headed  obstinacy,  I 
don't  quite  understand!  And  I  am  not  going  to  have  itl 

Foss. — You  may  thank  your  dead  father  for  that.  And  your  relatives 
all  told,  for  that  matter.  It's  to  be  charged  to  them  that  peace  and  con- 
cord have  not  gained  a  foothold  here  at  Hohenau.  Now  don't  be  sur- 
prised if  at  last  a  time  of  retribution  comes  on. 


MAX  HALBE  59 

Karl  Egon  (has  found  himself}. — Mr.  Voss,  I  advise  you  for  the  last 
time,  heed  a  rational  suggestion!  You  must  see  for  yourself  that  an 
amicable  relation  is  impossible  in  the  long  run! 

Voss   (scornfully). — That  depends  entirely  upon  you. 

Karl  Egon. — No,  it  depends  upon  you.  You  are  not  the  man  to  keep 
peace.  I  can  tell  that  by  a  thousand  and  one  little  things.  Only  today  I 
realized  again. 

^055. — Aha  1  Because  of  that  young  scamp  that  I  ran  across  on  my 
meadow  land ? 

Karl  Egon  (interrupting). — I  don't  want  to  talk  about  it  now.  I 
want  to  remain  calm.  I  beg  you,  do  likewise. 

Voss. — I  am  as  calm  as  I  have  ever  been  in  all  of  my  life. 

Karl  Egon. — Good!  If  you  are,  you  must  admit,  there  can  be  no 
idea  of  real  peace  between  us.  One  of  the  two  parties  must  yield. 

Voss. — Why  don't  you  yield,  if  my  presence  is  inconvenient  to  you? 

Karl  Egon. — Since  when  must  the  stronger  man  yield? 

Voss. — It  must  first  become  clear  who  the  stronger  man  is  in  this  case ! 
That  has  not  been  proved  up  to  the  present. 

Karl  Egon. — I  advise  you,  do  not  bring  it  to  a  test ! 

Voss. — Aha  1     Is  force  really  going  to  be  tried? 

Karl  Egon  (with  increasing  emotion). — Just  because  I  do  not  wish 
to  do  that,  I  am  making  the  greatest  advances  to  you  that  a  man  can  at  all 
make.  For  that  reason  I  am  making  you  an  offer  that  no  one  will  ever 
make  you  again! 

Voss  (mildly) . — And  if  you  offer  me  a  million,  I  will  not  yield  to  you ! 
You  will  find  out  who  old  man  Voss  is !  You  and  your  city  rabble  I 

Karl  Egon  (turns  on  his  heel). — So  my  father  was  right  after  all! 

Voss  (in  violent  anger) . — You  shall  find  out  who  I  am.  I  shall  sugar 
coat  your  life  for  you  until  you  have  your  fill ! 

Karl  Egon  (beside  himself). — That  is  base  meanness!  Why,  that 
is !  (Goes  to  and  fro,  panting.) 

Voss  (a  step  toward  him). — I  suppose  I  am  not  expected  to  notice 
why  you  want  me  away  from  here  by  all  means?  Surely  you  did  not  offer 
me  that  price  without  a  reason.  Because  I  and  my  place  are  in  your  way, 
as  I  was  in  your  father's  way!  Because  you  can't  stir  as  long  as  I  am 
planted  here  at  your  door!  Because  you  have  hifalutin  notions  about 
building  a  castle  and  such  pranks  in  your  head !  All  I  have  to  say,  hands 
off,  my  boysie !  There's  no  castle  to  be  built  here  as  long  as  I  can  stir  a 
finger!  I'll  plant  a^  stack  of  straw  on  my  meadow  for  you.  Then  you 
can  keep  looking  at  that  straw  stack  for  a  view  1 


60  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Karl  Eg  on  (clenching  his  fist) . — And  with  that  man  I  thought  of 
peace  I 

Foss  (calmer). — Return  your  thanks  to  those  who  have  it  against 
their  record! 

Karl  Eg  on  (steps  up  before  him) . — So  you  want  to  take  revenge  upon 
me  because  you  no  longer  can  upon  my  father? 

Foss. — You  may  interpret  that  as  you  please. 

Karl  Egon. — You  want  to  pay  me  up  for  what  my  ancestors  have 
done  to  you? 

Foss. — Every  red  penny,  if  it  is  possible ! 

Karl  Egon. — And  do  you  know,  sir,  that  in  doing  so  you  are  forcing 
me  to  use  the  same  means  to  which  you  forced  my  father? 

Foss. — If  I  disposed  of  your  father,  I  shall  very  certainly  be  able  to 
dispose  of  you! 

Karl  Egon. — You  might  be  awfully  mistaken  about  that! 

Foss. — I'll  take  my  chances  on  that  without  a  fear. 

Karl  Egon. — Then  we  are  through  with  each  other.  (He  turns 
away.) 

Foss. — Yes,  we've  talked  enough  now !     Now  it's  a  matter  of  deeds ! 

Karl  Egon. — Good!     Let  things  take  their  course. 

Foss  (already  in  the  door). — You  will  hear  from  me.  (Goes  out 
quickly.) 

Karl  Egon  (stands  for  a  moment  as  if  still  reflecting,  then  rushes  to 

the  rear  door  at  the  right  and  calls). — I  say! Rathke ! 

Rathke  ! Where  in  the  world  are  you?  Rathke ! 

Rathke  (comes  in  hastily). — Voss  has  gone! Well,  what  is  it, 

Mr.  Rosenhagen?  War  or  peace?  I  hope  war! 

Karl  Egon  (determined). — Have  them  hitch  up,  Rathke!  Have 
them  hitch  up !  I  am  going  to  drive  to  Danzig  at  once !  Look  up  the 
address  of  Wegner!  We  must  have  the  documents.  There  is  going  to 
be  war! 

Rathke  (in  wild  joy). — Praise  Father,  Son  and  all  the  rest  of  them! 

Martha  (rushes  in). — What  has  happened?  Voss  is  gone!  Have 
you  come  to  an  agreement  or  not? 

Rathke. — As  much  so  as  God  and  old  Nick!  Be  glad,  Miss  Rei- 
mann.  There  is  going  to  be  war  with  Voss! 

Karl  Egon. — He  has  desired  it.     Good!     His  will  be  done! 

Rathke  (runs  to  the  door,  calls  out). — Hitch  up! Say,  Mike! 

Hitch  up  the  dog  cart !  The  two  roans !  Hurry  up !  Hurry  up  1 

Hitch  up  I 


MAX  HALBE  61 

Martha   (stands  struggling  with  herself}. — God  have  mercy!     Do 
not  let  it  be  visited  upon  me ! Do  not  let  it  be  visited  upon  me  1 

Curtain. 


THIRD  ACT 

Hall  as  before.  Nothing  Is  changed.  Only  the  sofa  table  is  cleared 
and  put  In  order.  A  large  bouquet  of  asters  is  on  the  table  in  the  center, 
a  second  bouquet  on  the  sofa  table.  It  is  the  same  day  as  before  towards 
evening.  The  sinking  sun  sheds  a  golden  light  upon  the  windows  of  the 
hall  and  the  flowers  beds  and  grass  plots  in  the  garden.  The  evening  light 
rets  upon  the  distant  heights  and  forests.  Gradually  twilight  comes  on 
and  it  begins  to  grow  dark.  Towards  the  end,  the  moon  has  risen  and 
sheds  its  mild  light  over  garden  and  meadow,  near  and  far.  The  folding 
doors  into  the  garden  remain  open  until  the  end. 

(On  the  top  step  at  the  entrance  stand  overseer  RATHKE  and  FRITZ 
DIESTERKAMP,  before  them  in  the  garden  BUMKEWITSCH  and  three  other 
farm  hands  with  forks  on  their  backs.} 

Fritz. — Well,  won't  Egon  make  a  fine  face  when  he  gets  back  from 
Danzig  and  hears  about  it!  Hurrah!  I  am  tickled  about  it  already. 

Rathke  (in  sharp  anger  to  the  farm  hands  standing  below}. — The 
deuce  get  you  on  the  spot !  To  run  away,  like  old  women,  because  a  fellow 
like  that,  a  fellow  like  Voss  (he  points  towards  the  right}  plants  himself 
down  and  undertakes  to  head  you  off.  Such  dish  rags !  As  if  they  had 
not  gone  over  that  road  a  thousand  times !  As  if  everybody  in  the  village 
did  not  know  that  that  is  a  public  road !  And  now  you  allow  yourself  to 
be  put  off  by  a  blackguard  like  that! 

Bumkewitsch  (scratches  his  head}. — Me  be  so  much  fool,  me  mix  up 
with  old  Voss !  Place  is  his'n,  and  kin  do  what  he  wants  to  with  it.  Kin 
head  off  or  any  old  thing.  Aint  it  a  fact,  pard?  (He  turns  toward  the 
rest. } 

A  Farmhand. — Bumkewitsch  am  all  right.  We  caint  help  it,  ef  Voss 
wont  let  us  cross  his  medder.  That's  the  business  of  the  boss. 

Second  Farmhand. — All  the  same  to  we  uns.  We  don't  fight  with 
Voss. 

Rathke. — And  so,  the  deuce  take  it,  you  went  all  the  way  around  from 
the  Liebschau  Cut  along  the  highway  instead  of  coming  directly  along 
the  meadow  road  to  the  estate?  Why,  that  is  almost  half  a  mile  farther! 


62  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Bumkewitsch  (smirking] . — It  do  take  a  good  hour  t'  walk  it  the  other 
way. 

Fritz  (on  one  leg,  then  on  the  other}. — What  do  you  say  now,  Mr. 
Rathke?  Just  this  noon  you  gave  me  the  laugh,  because  he  attacked  my 
hat.  What  kind  of  a  figure  do  I  cut  now? 

Bumkewitsch. — It's  good  two  hours  a  day,  to  go  around.  One  hour 
there,  and  one  back. 

Rathke  (snorting}. — Aren't  you  drunk,  fellows?  Go  walking  two 
hours  a  day!  Beginning  tomorrow  morning  you're  to  use  the  meadow 
road  again.  And  if  it  rains  blue  fire!  (He  shakes  his  fist  toward  the 
right.}  We'll  get  that  dog  to  trotting!  Just  wait  until  Mr.  Rosenhagen 
is  back  from  the  city.  He'll  prove  it  to  him  all  right. 

Bumkewitsch  (smirking}. — Wall,  an'  wot  ef  ole  man  Voss  comes  an' 
sez —  "No,  siree — boys — no  bizness  on  my  place,  hike  and  git  off"? 

Rathke. — Then  answer  him :  we've  taken  this  road  up  to  the  present 
and  we'll  continue  to  take  it.  This  is  a  village  road. 

Bumkewitsch. — Wall,  an'  ef  old  Voss  gits  huffy  an'  gits  'is  pistol  out? 

Rathke  (mildly} . — What  are  your  forks  good  for,  you  lubbers?  You 
handle  them  pretty  well  at  other  times ! 

Bumkewitsch. — Wall,  wot  d'ye  say,  ef  Voss  gits  on  'is  ear  an'  shoots 
a  hole  in  pore  Bumkewitsch's  belly? 

Rathke. — You  say  you  are  a  soldier ! 

Bumkewitsch. — Ticklish  'round  ma  belly!  Don't  like  a  shootin'  in 
ma  belly! 

Fritz  (enthusiastic}. — That's  going  to  be  a  capital  lark! 

Rathke  (to  the  rest  of  them}. — Are  all  of  you  cowardly  curs  like  the 

Pole? Mike — ,  aren't  you  as  husky  as  they  make  them?  You're 

not  afraid  to  tackle  Voss? 

First  Farmhand  (doubtfully}. — I'd  tackle  'im  all  right  in  the  saloon 
or  on  the  street  or  mebbie  in  front  of  the  church,  jest  let  'm  git  after  me 
there.  But  on  'is  place  he's  on  the  right  side,  I'm  weak  and  Vs  strong, 
an'  I  know  this  much,  he'll  not  monkey. 

The  Other  Two. — Nope,  he'll  not  monkey. 

First  Farmhand. — An'  then  it  '11  go  rip.  A  feller  has  'is  ole  woman 
an'  kids. 

Rathke  (raging}. — A  nice  mess!  I  smelled  a  mouse,  didn't  I?  A 
good  thing  that  we  can  spoil  his  fun  for  him !  Mr.  Rosenhagen  didn't  go 
to  the  city  for  nothing. 

Fritz  (impatiently} . — But  when  in  the  world  is  Egon  coming?  What 
is  keeping  him  so  long? 


MAX  HALBE  63 

Rathke  (to  the  farmhands}. — Now  here  they  stand  like  blockheads! 
Even  four  of  them  afraid  of  a  single  one ! 

First  Farmhand. — It  jest  seems  t'  me  that  the  boss  an'  Mr.  Voss  '11 
haf  to  fix  that  up.  What's  that  to  us  hands?  I'm  not  goin'  over  Voss's 
medder,  afore  that's  fix't  up.  I'm  not  goin'  to  scrap  with  Voss.  Not  me. 

The  Other  Two. — That's  what ! 

Bumkewitsch. — Me  be  a  dum  fool?     Git  myself  shot  up? 

Rathke  (takes  several  steps) . — It's  just  as  I've  said.  There's  no  way 
of  stopping  things  now.  It's  a  matter  of  bending  or  breaking! 

(MARTHA  comes  in  quickly  through  the  rear  door  at  the  right.  She 
looks  haggard.  Steps  up  to  the  group  eagerly.) 

Fritz  (who  notices  her  first,  rushes  toward  her). — Do  you  know? 
Have  you  heard  about  it  already?  The  old  farmer,  next  door,  you  know, 
the  fellow  who  took  my  hat,  he's  getting  crazier  and  crazier !  Now  he  has 
even  ordered  your  hands  from  the  road.  Just  think  of  it !  Just  think 
of  it! 

Martha  (frightened). — Ordered  them  from  the  road?  What  road? 
Why  don't  you  tell  me,  Rathke  ? 

Rathke. — The  meadow  road,  of  course!  From  what  other  road 
could  he,  eh? 

Fritz  (interrupting). — And  he  closed  the  turnpike  at  the  Liebschau 
Cut,  no  one  is  allowed  to  go  over  the  meadow  from  our  place  hereafter! 
Everybody  must  make  the  long  loop  now! 

Bumkewitsch  (smirking). — It's  two  good  hours  every  day,  there  'n 
back. 

Rathke  (raging). — Keep  your  mug  closed,  Pole,  till  you  are  asked! 

Bumkewitsch. — I'll  just  hustle  up  an'  git  out.  If  I  don't,  I'll  git  a 
thrashin'  from  the  overseer. 

First  Farmhand. — Kin  we  uns  go  too? 

Rathke. — Go  to  the  deuce,  where  you  belong! 

First  Farmhand. — Wall,  that's  wot  we'll  do  then !  (  The  four  depart 
through  the  garden  toward  the  right.) 

Rathke  (to  MARTHA). — Now  what  do  you  say  to  that  blackguard, 
that  Voss?  Didn't  I  know  it  beforehand?  It's  high  time  to  take  things 
seriously. 

Martha  (distressed). — But  how  can  he  close  the  meadow  road? 
Hasn't  that  always  been- open? 

Rathke. — During  the  life  time  of  the  old  man  he  would  not  have 
dared  to  do  that !  He  thinks  he  can  make  a  pass  at  the  young  man ! 


64  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Well,  just  wait,  you  rogue,  this  time  you  have  made  a  bum  calculation! 
This  time  we  got  up  a  bit  earlier! 

Martha  (oppressed). — Do  you  think  that  something  will  come  of  it? 

Rathke. — Of  what? 

Martha. — Hasn't  Karl  driven  to  the  city  to  get  the  evidence  in  regard 
to  the  meadow  land?  Do  you  think  that  is  being  done  with  a  purpose? 

Rathke. — Well,  do  I  think  that's  being  done  with  a  purpose !  That's 
Voss's  death  warrant.  If  the  young  man  had  only  been  sharp  long  ago ! 
We  should  have  saved  ourselves  all  of  this  vexation ! 

Martha. — I  can't  imagine  that  Voss  will  give  in  so  easily. 

Rathke. — He  must!  The  skinflint  must!  Through  that  evidence 
we'll  have  him  in  our  hands !  In  one  way  I  am  glad  enough  that  he  played 
us  the  trick  in  regard  to  the  meadow  road.  Now  Mr.  Rosenhagen  will 
surely  see  for  himself  that  there  is  no  such  a  thing  as  getting  on  with  him ! 
That  only  force  will  do  any  good  with  him ! 

Martha  (excited,  anxiously}. — I  do  hope  that  will  not  result  in  a 
misfortune ! 

Fritz  (enthusiastically} . — Oh,  that  would  be  great!  May  be  Bumke- 
witsch  will  be  fired  upon  after  all.  For  my  life,  I'd  just  like  to  have  a  hand 
in  that  kind  of  a  thing  for  once ! 

Bumkewitsch  (comes  back  into  the  garden  from  the  right,  speaks  'very 
quickly  and  with  an  important  air}.  Mr.  Rosenhagen's  comin' !  Mr. 
Rosenhagen's  comin' ! 

Fritz. — Hurrah !     The  Prussians  are  here ! 

Rathke. — What  is  up? 

Bumkewitsch. — Was  a  goin'  t'  say,  the  cart  of  Mr.  Rosenhagen  is  a 
comin'  along.  It's  right  close. 

Rathke. — Open  the  gate!      I'm  coming  out  directly! 

Bumkewitsch. — Runnin'  as  hard  as  I  can!  (Of  quickly  toward  the 
right.} 

Fritz  (after  him}  .—Don't  tell !  Don't  tell !  I'll  tell  him !  I'll  tell 
him!  (Likewise  of  toward  the  right.} 

Rathke  (on  the  way  to  the  rear  door  at  the  right,  he  remains  stand- 
ing}.— Well,  I  am  curious  enough  now  to  see  what  he  is  bringing  with  him. 

Martha. — And  what  if  he  brings  nothing  at  all?  What  if  he  has 
changed  his  mind  on  the  way  after  all? 

Rathke. — Then  my  term  as  overseer  is  about  over.  With  a  master 
who  would  take  that  kind  of  a  thing,  I'll  have  nothing  more  to  do ! 

Martha  (heavily}. — Do  not  fear.  Whenever  Karl  makes  up  his 
mind  to  anything,  he  adheres  to  it. 


MAX  HALBE  65 

Rathke. — That's  the  proper  thing  for  a  Rosenhagen  to  do.  Didn't 
his  father  and  his  grandfather  do  that?  (He  goes  out  at  the  right  with 
resounding  steps.} 

Martha  (remains  standing  at  the  table  in  the  center  struggling 
seriously  with  herself  and  listens  to  what  is  going  on  outside.  Then  she 
presses  her  hands  to  her  face,  sinks  upon  a  chair  and  sobbing,  presses  her 

face  against  the  top  of  the  table}. — My  God! My  God! My 

God! (After  a  little  while  she  is  startled  since  she  hears  voices  in  the 

garden,  jumps  up  as  if  she  had  to  flee,  runs  to  the  door  at  the  left,  but 
controls  herself  with  some  effort  and  remains  standing.} 

(KARL  EGON  appears  at  the  right  in  the  garden,  accompanied  by 
FRITZ  who  has  taken  his  arm  and  talks  to  him  eagerly}. 

Fritz. — And  he  has  let  the  turnpike  down!  And  now  nobody  is  al- 
lowed to  cross  the  meadow  any  more!  And  the  fellow  who  crosses  his 
path,  will  get  a  lead  pill ! 

Karl  Egon  (about  to  ascend  the  garden  steps,  impatiently}. — But, 
Fritz,  you  are  fairly  pulling  me  down  the  steps !  Now  do  let  loose  of  me ! 
Why,  one  doesn't  come  to  his  senses  at  all!  (He  releases  himself  with  a 
violent  gesture.} 

Fritz  (angered}. — Well,  can't  a  fellow  tell  you  the  news?  If  that 
doesn't  interest  you,  you're  to  be  pitied. 

Karl  Egon  (sharply}. — Well,  then,  I'm  to  be  pitied!  In  any  case  I 
beg  you  not  to  crow  in  this  fashion.  Why,  they  can  hear  you  all  the  way 
over  to  Voss's  place. 

Fritz  (scornfully}. — Aha!  You  are  probably  afraid  of  him? 

I  can  imagine  as  much. 

Karl  Egon  (sarcastically}. — You  are  getting  on  some,  my  son. 

Fritz. — Well,  well,  now  don't  act  off  that  way.  You  quake  in  your 
boots  when  it  comes  to  Voss!  Moreover,  I  am  not  your  son,  remember 
that  much! 

Karl  Egon. — If  you  knew  how  cute  you  are !  You  might  have  your- 
self stuffed  for  a  museum.  You  look  like  a  turkey  cock  that  has  gone  mad. 

Fritz. — Well,  I  do  say !  I  am  going  my  own  way !  I  guess  I'll  not 
take  any  vile  flouts  around  here!  (He  disappears  in  the  garden  to  the 
right. } 

Karl  Egon  (meanwhile  has  entered  the  hall,  throws  his  hat  on  the 
table}. — Good  evening,  Martha. 

Martha  (has  meanwhile  stood  motionless,  is  again  calm  and  com- 
posed} . — Good  evening,  Karl. 

Karl  Egon  (looks  around}. — Why,  where  is  Hermine? 


66  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Martha. — I  don't  know. 

Karl  Egon  (steps  up  to  her,  wants  to  shake  hands  with  her) . —  

Evening Well,  aren't  you  going  to  shake  hands  with  me  ? 

Martha  (reserved). — If  you  want  me  to.  (Extends  her  hand 
hesitatingly.) 

Karl  Egon  (shaking  his  head). — Sometimes  one  really  is  unable  to 
account  for  you. 

Martha  (with  a  weak  smile). — Is  this  the  first  time  that  you  have 
noticed  that? 

Karl  Egon  (looks  at  her  for  a  moment,  then  changes  the  conversa- 
tion}. — Well,  it's  fine  news  with  which  a  person  is  received  here. 

Martha. — You  mean  the  affair  with  Voss? 

Karl  Egon  (walking  up  and  down  violently) . — It's  just  as  if  he  were 
planning  to  force  me  to  the  utmost ! 

Martha  (slowly). — Don't  you  think  that  some  one  has  incited  him? 
Until  yesterday  everything  was  in  the  best  of  order.  You  had  as  much  as 
come  to  an  agreement.  Since  today  suddenly  he  is  as  if  transformed. 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  yes,  that  of  course  seemed  remarkable  to  me  also. 

Martha. — There  is  surely  some  one  back  of  that. 

Karl  Egon. — Well,  that  is  no  longer  of  any  consequence  any  how. 
If  some  one  really  did  that,  it  will  come  back  to  him  some  time.  It  is 
certain  that  the  fact  is  established  that  all  is  over  between  Voss  and  myself, 
and  that  now  it  is  simply  a  question  of  drawing  the  consequences. 

Martha. — Why,  Voss  has  done  that  already ! 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  he  has  gone  to  work  promptly,  but  I  have  not  been 
lazy  myself.  Now  we  shall  wait  and  see  who  has  the  best  arms. 

Martha. — Did  you  procure  the  document  from  Wegner? 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  that  and  several  other  things.  Still  more  was 
found  in  the  files.  I  have  already  called  on  Metzler,  our  attorney.  The 
case  is  desperately  bad  for  Voss. 

Martha  (tired). — Well,  then  you  may  be  glad. 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  just  so.  Not  only  in  that  matter.  Also  in  other 
respects!  Also  in  other  respects! 

Martha  (startled). — Also  in  other  respects?     How  so? 

Karl  Egon  (smiling). — Can't  you  guess,  sister  Martha? 

Martha  (as  before). — Oh,  that's  it?  You  have  reached  an  under- 
standing, you  and  Hermine? 

Karl  Egon  (with  beaming  eyes). — You  see,  sister?  You've  hit  it. 
You've  hit  it. 

Martha. — Then  after  all? 


MAX  HALBE  67 

Karl  Egon  (surprised] . — Why,  did  you  suppose  anything  else  to 
happen  ? 

Martha. — One  can  never  size  up  these  people  who  are  in  love. 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  you  talk  like  a  hardened  old  sea-monster. 

Martha. — That's  just  what  I  am. 

Karl  Egon. — Now  say,  in  the  first  place,  tell  me  where  is  Hermine? 
Why,  one  doesn't  hear  or  see  anything  of  her. 

Martha. — I  suppose  she  is  out  somewhere  on  horseback.  I  have 
seen  her  nowhere. 

Karl  Egon  (absorbed  in  his  thoughts) . — Oh,  I  tell  you,  Martha  dear, 
I  am  so  tremendously  happy!  Tremendously  happy! 

Rathke  (comes  in  at  the  rear  door  at  the  right,  carrying  a  rather  large 
satchel  and  a  portfolio}. — And  here  I  have  the  things  from  the  cart. 

Karl  Egon. — Very  well,  just  put  them  here  on  the  table. 

Rathke  (approaching  and  swinging  the  portfolio}. — That's  worth 
something,  Mr.  Rosenhagen.  That  has  weight. 

Karl  Egon. — Did  you  take  a  look  at  the  thing?  Aren't  the  docu- 
ments quite  explicit? 

Rathke. — Well,  are  they?  It's  all  clear  as  crystal.  Didn't  I  say, 
Miss,  that  this  is  the  death  warrant  of  Voss?  Old  Mr.  Rosenhagen  will 
rejoice  up  there!  (He  has  put  the  satchel  on  the  table  in  the  center,  turns 
the  pages  of  the  documents.} 

Karl  Egon. — Isn't  that  true?    It  will  be  difficult  to  meet  that  evidence. 

Rathke  (turns  the  leaves). — The  best  of  it  is  the  assessment  roll  and 
especially  the  entry  on  the  i3th  of  January  (Eighteen)  Twenty-six.  There 
the  Hohenau  meadow  land  is  expressly  mentioned.  That  can  not  refer  to 
anything  else.  He  is  certainly  a  deuced  fellow,  that  man  Wegner.  Didn't 
give  up  till  he  had  collected  everything !  Knew  well  enough  that  he'd  find 
his  purchaser,  even  if  it  was  not  a  matter  of  today  or  tomorrow!  Some 
time  we'd  have  to  come  to  him  I  The  deuced  fellow ! 

Karl  Egon. — I  should  have  liked  it  better  if  I  had  not  needed  him.  I 
might  have  saved  myself  that  trip.  But  what  is  to  be  done?  Circum- 
stances are  simply  stronger  than  men.  One  is  compelled  to  whether  he 
likes  it  or  not. 

Rathke. — If  only  your  father  had  lived  just  long  enough  to  see  that. 

Karl  Egon  (in  meditation). — Yes,  for  father  it  would  have  been  the 
greatest  thing  in  the  world  and  he  had  to  die  in  course  of  it.  Now  I  have 
it  on  my  hands.  I  have  to  stick  it  out.  That's  the  way  it  goes  in  life. 

Rathke. — Well,  when  are  we  going  to  begin  to  bring  suit?     Or  how 


68  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

are  you  going  to  arrange  that,  sir?  It's  on  account  of  the  meadow  road. 
Of  course  something  will  have  to  be  done  in  regard  to  that  at  once. 

Karl  Egon. — Of  course,  he  must  take  that  back! 

Rathke. — How  would  it  be  if  I  just  went  over  and  laid  down  the  law 
to  him? 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  one  of  us  must  go  over  and  speak  to  him. 

Rathke. — That  matter  of  the  meadow  road  can  surely  not  remain  as 
it  is  I  Why,  the  people  will  give  us  the  laugh !  A  fellow  will  have  to  be 
ashamed  of  himself  I 

Karl  Egon. — Very  well,  then!  We'll  bring  the  matter  to  an  issue  at 
once! 

Rathke. — If  the  thing's  to  be  done,  what's  the  use  of  putting  it  off. 

Karl  Egon. — Go  over  and  demand  that  he  open  the  meadow  road  at 
once.  I  say  at  once.  If  he  says  no  at  first,  then  slowly  lead  out  to  him 
what  we  have  in  our  hand  to  trump  him,  all  the  evidence  in  regard  to  the 
meadow  land,  and  then  we'll  see  what  he  has  to  say. 

Rathke  (diabolically}. — Well,  I'm  curious  to  see  that  face!  That 
sight  I  will  not  sell  for  a  good  sum  of  money! 

Karl  Egon. — Be  careful.  Do  not  anger  him  unnecessarily.  One 
must  build  golden  bridges  for  the  enemy.  Let  it  be  apparent,  that  I  still 
offer  him  what  I  have  offered  him.  I  don't  want  to  ruin  him.  He  should 
listen  to  reason.  No  man  can  give  him  more. 

Rathke. — Now  I  wouldn't  do  that,  sir.  Sixty  thousand  will  pay  for 
it,  good  and  plenty. 

Karl  Egon. — Makes  no  difference.  I've  offered  it  to  him  and  I'll 
not  take  it  back.  I  am  not  an  extorter.  What  I  am  doing,  I  am  doing 
under  compulsion,  because  I  can't  help  myself. 

Rathke. — Shall  I  take  the  documents  along  when  I  go  over  to  him? 

Karl  Egon  (reflecting] . — Yes or Wait  a  minute  !  No! — 

Better  leave  them  here. 

Rathke. — I  think  so,  too. 

Karl  Egon. — If  he  has  any  doubts,  he  can  come  here  and  see  for  him- 
self. 

Rathke  (diabolically). — Well,  then,  here  we  go.  It's  been  a  long 
time  since  I've  gone  into  anything  with  so  much  pleasure.  (He  turns 
toward  the  garden  steps.) 

Martha  (has  listened  silently  up  to  the  present,  struggling  with  her 
disquietude  and  now  intercepts  RATHKE). — Do  not  go,  Rathke!  Do  not 

go- 

Rathke  (stopping). — Well,  I  will!    The  deuce  you  say!     What's  up! 


MAX  HALBE  69 

Martha. — Do  not  let  him  go,  Karl!  I  beg  you!  Have  him  stay 
here! 

Karl Eaon. — But  why!  Some  time  it  will  have  to  be  settled  after  all. 
So,  the  sooner,  the  better!  I  am  crowded  for  time  as  it  is. 

Martha  (excited). — Why  is  there  such  a  hurry?  Can't  everything 
continue  in  its  old  course?  Must  you  by  all  means  drive  Voss  to  the 
utmost  ? 

Rathke. — Well,  now  isn't  that  bright?     Isn't  that  bright? 

Karl  Eaon  (shaking  his  head). — I  really  don't  understand  you,  child. 
It  seems  to  me  that  Voss  is  driving  me  to  the  utmost.  I  surely  have  made 
him  advances  enough.  All  he  needs  to  do  is  to  accept. 

Rathke. — Oh,  don't  listen  to  it  at  all,  sir !  Have  me  go,  and  let  that 
settle  it  I  Else  it  will  be  evening.  Why,  the  sun  is  just  about  down  now. 

Martha. — Don't  you  know  Voss,  pray  tell?  I  am  so  afraid  some- 
thing may  happen. 

Karl  Eaon  (laughing). — Are  you  afraid,  Rathke? 

Rathke  (raging). — I'm  not  afraid  of  the  devil!  Expect  me  to  be 
afraid  of  Voss! 

Martha. — Why,  it  isn't  a  question  of  Rathke.  It's  a  question  of  you ! 
It  will  come  back  upon  you  1 

Karl  Eaon  (laughing). — All  this  anxiety  on  my  account Good 

heavens !  Some  time  we'll  all  have  to  come  to  it.  Moreover  don't  worry. 
An  incipient  bridegroom  like  myself  is  invulnerable.  He  looks  out  for  his 
hide  well  enough. 

Rathke  (complacently). — Now  you  hear,  Miss,  what  it  is  to  be  one 
of  the  Rosenhagens.  Well,  good-bye.  And  if  I  am  not  back  in  half  an 
hour  we  have  devoured  each  other  hair  and  hide,  Voss  and  1 1  Then  the 
devil  has  got  both  of  us.  (He  goes  down  the  steps  into  the  garden  laugh- 
ing, then  crosses  the  foot  bridge  and  disappears  toward  the  right.  Outside 
twilight  gradually  sets  in  during  the  following  sentences.) 

Karl  Eaon  (looks  after  Rathke). — Isn't  he  a  loyal  soul  though!  A 
loyal  soul! 

Martha. — Oh,  that  fellow!  He  must  also  incite  against  Voss,  in 
addition  to  all  the  rest. 

Karl  Egon  (steps  up  to  MARTHA  and  lays  his  hand  on  her  shoulder). 
Tell  me,  Martha,  what  in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  you?  You  take 
sides  with  my  worst  enemy  against  me?  Just  come  along  and  explain 
now 

Martha  (without  looking  at  him). — Because  I  don't  see  why  all  that 
must  come  about  in  this  way!  Why  everything  can  not  go  its  old  way! 


7o  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

It  has  gone  well  enough  up  to  the  present !  Why  must  Voss  by  all  means 
be  put  out  of  house  and  home? 

Karl  Egon. — Because  he  is  my  enemy  as  he  has  been  the  enemy  of  my 
father  and  my  grandfather.  Why,  haven't  you  been  in  our  house  long 
enough?  You  ought  to  know  thatl 

Martha. — Yes,  I  know  that  it  has  gone  up  to  the  present  and  that  it 
might  go  on,  if  it  were  not  for  your  foolish  infatuation. 

Karl  Egon  (angrily}. — Restrain  yourself,  Martha! 

Martha. — I  have  restrained  myself  long  enough. 

Karl  Egon. — I  tell  you,  there  is  no  longer  room  at  Hohenau  for  both 
me  and  Voss.  I  must  be  rid  of  the  man,  amicably  or  the  reverse  I  I 
simply  owe  that  to  myself.  I  owe  it  to  my  happiness,  to  my  future  I 

Martha. — Oh,  you  are  doing  all  that  simply  on  her  account!  The 
whole  notion  of  the  castle  is  simply  on  account  of  Hermine ! 

Karl  Egon. — Of  course,  I  am  doing  it  for  Hermine.  Why,  isn't  Her- 
mine a  part  of  my  future,  a  part  of  my  happiness?  Even  the  best  part? 

Martha. — Your  misfortune,  that's  what  she  is.  You  will  live  to  see 
that.  She's  the  one  who  brought  all  this  unrest  into  our  house.  She  has 
put  everything  on  its  head!  How  beautifully  we  could  live,  if  she  had  not 
come  here  I 

Karl  Egon. — I  beg  you,  Martha,  once  more,  restrain  yourself.  Her- 
mine has  become  my  betrothed  today. 

Martha. — After  all  then?  Has  she  condescended,  is  she  going  to 
stay  here? 

Karl  Egon. — Do  stop  that  kind  of  talk.  We  came  to  an  understand- 
ing this  morning  and  we  intend  to  celebrate  the  occasion  a  bit  this  evening. 

Martha  (weak}. — So  you  intend  to  celebrate  your  engagement  this 
evening  ? 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  I  think  it  will  be  all  right  with  Hermine.  If  I  can 
ever  get  a  glimpse  of  her. 

Martha  (has  gained  control  of  herself  again,  smiles  faintly}. — Then 
I  wish  you  great  happiness great  happiness ! 

Karl  Egon  (cordially}. — I  thank  you,  Martha,  I  thank  you.  (He 
takes  her  hand.}  Now  that's  the  way  I  like  to  see  you. 

Martha. — Do  you  like  me  again? 

Karl  Egon. — You  will  remain  my  good  friend  and  sister,  will  you  not? 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (opens  the  front  door  at  the  right,  hobbles  In  on 
her  cane,  holds  her  hand  over  her  eyes}. — Anyone  here? 

Karl  Egon  (turns  around}. — We  are,  grandmother,  Martha  and  I. 
You  are  coming  just  at  the  right  time.  I  have  something  to  tell  you. 


MAX  HALBE  71 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (approaching). — Well,  well!  It's  you?  All 
alone  here  in  the  dark? 

Martha. — There  is  no  danger  in  that,  grandma.  You  need  not  fear 
anything. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — And  I  was  already  thinking —  Too  bad! 
Too  bad !  You  would  have  made  quite  a  fine  couple,  you  and  Karl. 

Karl  Eg  on  (in  merriment). — Why,  Martha  never  gave  me  a  bit  of 
encouragement.  Why,  she  doesn't  think  of  that  kind  of  thing.  And  so 
I  went  and  picked  out  another. 

Martha. — Do  you  see  how  clever  that  was  of  you? 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (stands  close  to  MARTHA  and  looks  into  her 
face) . — Why,  child,  you  look  so  pale ! 

Martha  (with  an  effort). — I,  pale?  Not  a  trace!  That's  simply 
on  account  of  the  twilight. 

Karl  Egon. — Does  anything  ail  you,  Martha  ? 

Martha. — No,  nothing  ails  me.  I'll  just  hurry  and  get  a  lamp. 
Why,  you  can't  see  a  thing  any  more!  (She  goes  out  quickly  through  the 
rear  door  at  right.) 

(Temporary  silence.) 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Well,  now,  what  did  you  want  to  tell  me  that 
I  don't  know  already? 

Karl  Egon  (joyously). — Something  very  fine,  grandmother!  Some- 
thing about  Hermine  and  me ! 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Well  then,  come  and  give  me  your  arm.  Let's 
go  out  into  the  garden  a  bit  yet !  You  know  how  I  like  to  do  that  at  night, 
when  the  stars  come  out. 

Karl  Egon  (offers  her  his  arm  and  slowly  leads  her  to  the  garden 
steps). — It's  about  time  for  the  moon  to  rise  too. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Yes,  it's  going  to  be  a  clear  night.  One  can 
look  up  again  to  all  of  the  eternal  lights,  and  follow  his  own  thoughts. 

Karl  Egon. — Be  sure  not  to  keep  on  sitting  in  the  garden  house  until 
midnight  again.  The  nights  are  already  cool. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Don't  interfere  with  my  pleasure !  Why,  that 
is  all  that  I  have  left  on  earth. 

Karl  Egon. — Well,  well!  You  surely  have  us  still!  Aren't  we  any- 
thing ? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — -Oh,  it's  always  the  old  story  with  man.  As 
with  you,  so  I  formerly  went  down  these  steps  with  your  father  and  long 
before  that  with  your  grandfather,  my  husband 


72  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

KarlEgon. — Yes,  and  now  a  new  generation  will  soon  take  root  again. 
Now  the  great-grandchildren  are  coming.  Aren't  you  glad  to  think  of 
that,  grandmother? 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — I  don't  know!  That  is  always  the  same 
thing  1  I  already  know  it  by  heart!  Let's  have  something  else  now! 
Something  entirely  new  I  (During  the  last  sentences  they  have  arrived  at 
the  bottom  of  the  garden.  Deep  twilight  in  the  hall.  Outside  clear  even- 
ing sky.  Here  and  there  a  star  begins  to  shine.} 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Do  you  know  what  star  that  is,  the  one  that 
is  quite  low? 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  yes,  that's  the  evening  star. 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Yes,  that  is  my  star.  That  is  pretty  near 
setting ! 

Karl  Egon. — Who  can  say  as  to  that,  grandmother?  Who  knows 
for  how  many  their  star  is  just  about  to  set?  (They  slowly  disappear 
toward  the  right.} 

Martha  (comes  in  again  from  the  right  with  the  lighted  lamp,  looks 
around). — No  one  here?  They  are  probably  in  the  garden.  (She  puts 
the  lamp  on  the  table  in  the  center,  and  pensively  looks  at  the  bouquet  of 
asters.}  The  first  asters  already.  Yes,  yes,  it's  autumn!  Autumn! 
(She  slowly  sinks  upon  a  chair,  shaken  by  sudden  sobs.  The  door  at  the 
left  is  opened.} 

H ermine  (enters  quickly,  but  noiselessly,  dressed  simply  but  elegantly, 
looks  around,  notices  MARTHA  at  the  table  sobbing,  steps  up  and  places  her 
hand  on  MARTHA'S  shoulder}. — But,  dear  Miss  Reimann.  What  is  the 
matter  with  you?  What  is  troubling  you? 

Martha  (starts  up  with  a  sudden  jerk}. — Who  is  this? What 

do Oh,  it's  you? 

Hermine. — To  be  sure!     I  suppose  you  did  not  hear  a  word? 

Martha  (tries  to  conceal  her  confusion}. — Yes,  I  don't  know 

I  didn't  hear  a  thing. 

Hermine  (fixing  her  eyes  upon  her} . — You  were  so  engrossed  in  your 
pain 

Martha  (still  not  quite  composed}. — I  in  my  pain? 

Hermine. — Yes,  you  must  certainly  have  some  secret  trouble. 

Martha  (calm  again  and  erect}. — At  any  rate  I  know  nothing  of  it. 

Hermine  (quizzically}. — Why,  you  sobbed  quite  audibly,  dear  Miss 
Reimann.  Moreover  one  can  see  the  marks  of  tears  on  your  face.  Just 
confess  a  bit. 


MAX  HALBE  73 

Martha  (passes  her  handkerchief  over  her  face  lightly,  entirely  com- 
posed).— I  have  no  confession  to  make  to  you. 

Hermine  (sits  down  on  a  chair  before  her,  looks  at  her,  lightly). — I 
suppose  you  think  I  have  no  heart  for  anything  like  that? 

Martha  (stands  at  the  table  before  her). — I  don't  know  whether  you 
have  a  heart.  And  it's  not  my  affair. 

Hermine. — After  all,  I  am  a  woman,  too,  even  a  rather  pretty  one, 
as  trustworthy  men  have  assured  me.  Why  should  I  not  also  be  acquainted 
with  the  pangs  of  love? 

Martha  (shrugging  her  shoulders). — You? 

Hermine. — I  suppose  you  think  you  are  the  only  one  who  has  them? 

Martha  (from  the  depths  of  her  soul). — What  do  you  know  of 
pangs  ?  What  do  you  know  of  love  ? 

Hermine  (quickly  and  with  a  superior  air). — Do  you  see?  Now 
you  have  betrayed  yourself.  Now  I  have  fathomed  you!  Moreover  I 
had  an  idea  of  it  long  ago. 

Martha  (excited) . — Why,  what  do  you  want  of  me?  Why  don't  you 
let  me  alone?  Why  don't  you  rejoice  in  what  you  have? 

Hermine  (with  a  kind  of  scornful  respect). — How  wild  you  can  be! 
I  like  that. 

Martha. — What  do  I  care  whether  you  like  me  or  not?  In  your 
heart  you  are  laughing  at  me! 

Hermine. — I  have  clearly  underestimated  you.  But  that,  of  course, 
is  a  mutual  affair.  Wrhy  not  become  friends? 

Martha. — We,  you  and  I?     Never  in  this  world! 

Hermine. — I  suppose  you  think  I  am  very  shallow? 

Martha. — And  you  certainly  are,  aren't  you? 

Hermine. — Goodness  ! You  are  also  shallow.     We  women  are 

all  shallow,  the  men  assert.     I  don't  see  why  we  should  believe  the  men 
when  they  say  that. 

Martha. — Just  believe  it.     It's  correct  in  your  case. 

Hermine  (laughing}. — Oh,  you  little  lamb!  Because  you  can  stir  up 
a  pound-cake  and  I  can't.  For  that  reason,  I  suppose,  you  are  deep  and 

I  am  supposed  to  be  shallow? Silly!     It's  not  simply  a  matter  of 

cooking  and  baking,  is  it? 

Martha. — Poor  Karl !     I  feel  sorry  for  you ! 

Hermine. — I  don't!  I  simply  see  something  else  in  him,  something 
that  you  do  not  see.  You  want  to  hedge  him  in  artificially.  I  want  to 
make  him  free.  Who  knows  who  has  the  better  intentions  for  him? 

Martha. — If  you  love  him,  you  surely  know! 


74  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Hermine. — I  have  loved  him  ever  since  youth.  I  have  learned  to 
admire  many  a  man,  but  Egon  I  love. 

Martha  (excited). — Who  knows  for  how  long? 

Hermine. — Yes,  I  cannot  vouch  for  myself.  Whether  it  is  going  to 
last  forever,  I  do  not  know.  Do  you  know  it  in  regard  to  yourself? 

Martha. — I  know  that  if  I  love  some  one,  it  is  certainly  forever  and 
ever! 

Hermine  (jumps  up,  a  little  nervous  and  restless). — Oh,  one  tries  to 
make  himself  believe  that.  One  only  tries  to  make  himself  believe  that. 
You  will  have  to  prove  that  to  me  beforehand,  if  I  am  to  believe  you. 
(They  stand  opposite  each  other,  looking  into  each  other's  eyes.) 

Martha  (slowly  and  emphatically). — And  you  would  become  his 
wife?  You  would  become  his  wife? 

Hermine  (quickly). — Why,  who  is  telling  you  that? 

Martha  (sadly). — Well,  who  do  you  suppose  has  told  me  that? 

Hermine. — Has  Egon  told  you  that?     How? 

Martha  (bitter) . — Are  you  only  feigning  now,  or  what  are  you  up  to? 
I  cannot  sound  you. 

Hermine  (s  ear  chin  gly ). — Oh,  that  is  probably  the  reason  for  the 
fervent  sobs,  when  I  came  into  the  room  a  bit  ago. 

Martha  (hard) . — I  did  not  sob.     I  know  nothing  about  it. 

Hermine  (as  before). — Does  it  really  affect  you  so  much?  Do  you 
really  love  him  so  wildly  that  you  cannot  live  without  him  ? 

Martha  (as  if  to  defend  herself  against  her). — That  is  what  I  ask 
you! 

Hermine  (more  and  more  searchingly,  almost  as  if  hypnotizing). — 
Could  you  go  to  the  end  of  the  world  for  him?  Could  you  die  for  him? 
Could  you  commit  murder  for  him  ? 

Martha  (as  if  struggling  against  a  spell) . — Let  me  go  away.  There 
is  something  in  your  eye 

Hermine  (continues  to  look  at  her  fixedly  ) . — Why,  what  is  in  my  eye? 

Martha  (struggling) . — Something narcotic! 

Hermine  (as  before,  quite  suppressed). — Could  you  commit  murder 
for  him,  I  ask? 

Martha  (blurts  out). — Possibly! 

Hermine  (stoops  down  to  her,  whispering  all  the  while) . — Why  don't 
you  murder  me?  I  am  his  enemy  according  to  your  opinion,  am  I  not? 
Why  am  I  still  alive  ? 

Martha  (broken). — Stop!     Let  me  go  away! 

Hermine   (whispering). — Or    why    don't    you    go    and  murder  this 


MAX  HALBE  75 

fellow,  this  Voss?  He  is  certainly  his  mortal  enemy.  Why  in  the  world 
is  he  still  alive? 

Martha  (collapsing,  puts  her  hands  before  her  face) . — My  God! 

My  God ! My  God  !— 

H ermine  (triumphing). — Do  you  see,  that  would  be  proof.  Such 
a  thing  I  could  not  do.  My  beautiful  young  life  would  be  too  dear  to  me 
for  that.  But  you  claim  to  be  so  great  and  strong.  Why  do  you  fail  to 
give  me  the  proof?  All  that  even  you  can  do  is  to  utter  fine  words ! 

Martha  (stands  bolt  upright). — Why,  what  have  /  said?  You  have 
spoken.  And  now  it  is  enough.  I  am  not  going  to  debase  myself  further ! 

H  ermine  (as  before) . — Aha  !  Are  you  grounding  arms  ?  I  am  not ! 
I  am  not !  For  me  the  decisive  struggle  is  just  beginning. 

Martha  (has  collected  herself). — Oh,  why  do  you  go  to  the  trouble 
of  feigning?  You  ought  to  be  glad  that  you  are  the  victor. 

H  ermine. — Who  knows !     Who  knows ! 

Martha. — You  are  coming  in  here  now,  and  I  must  go  away !  I  have 
lost  my  home,  and  you  have  found  one ! 

H  ermine  (with  a  strange  smile). — I  a  home?  What  notions  you  do 
have! 

Martha. — Yes,  we  have  exchanged  places.  You  have  won  the  grand 
prize  and  I  am  poor  as  a  beggar! 

H  ermine  (almost  gently). — Little  fool,  you! 

Martha. — Then  do  be  glad!  Do  be  glad!  But  one  thing  I  must 
still  know  before  I  go ! 

H  ermine. — Of  course,  you  sentimental  soul! 

Martha  (rising  to  her  full  stature). — You  have  asked  me  whether 
I  could  die  for  him.  But  can  you  live  for  him?  Can  you  live  for  him? 
Can  you  live  for  any  other  person  at  all  but  for  yourself? 

H  ermine  (disconcerted,  evasively). — What  puzzling  questions  you 
ask! 

Martha. — You  need  not  answer  me,  the  answer  is  in  your  eyes. 

Hermine. — I  suppose  that  you  are  proud  now  because  you  have 
wormed  that  out?  (She  takes  a  few  steps  toward  the  left  to  the  sofa 
table.) 

Martha. — Yes,  I  know  enough.  Make  him  as  happy  as  you  can ! 

As  you  can!  (She  turns  toward  the  rear  at  the  right  to  go.) 

Hermine. — Oh,  pshaw  I     I  can  do  as  much  as  you  can  any  day. 

Karl  Egon  (comes  up  the  garden  steps  quickly,  at  first  notices  only 
HERMINE,  who  stands  in  the  light  of  the  lamp,  while  MARTHA  has  already 
stepped  into  the  darker  background  at  the  right.  He  goes  toward  HER- 


76  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

MINE  joyously  and  extends  both  hands  to  her.) — Well,  here  you  are  at 
last,  beloved.  Thank  God!  Grandmother  and  I  have  been  hunting  over 
the  whole  place  for  you. 

H ermine. — Why,  where  did  you  leave  her? 

Karl  Egon. — Do  you  mean  grandmother?  She  is  sitting  in  the 
garden  house  as  usual  and  is  racking  her  brains  about  Sirius  and  the  other 
aged  gentleman  up  there.  But  am  I  not  to  get  a  proper  welcome?  (Is 
about  to  draw  her  up  to  himself.) 

H  ermine  (with  a  quick  turn). — Don't  you  see?  Martha  is  over 
there. 

Karl  Eaon  (nonplussed). — Where,  pray  tell?  (He  turns  around.) 
You  here  too,  Martha?  I  am  glad  of  that.  Why  are  you  at  the  door? 
Come  up  closer,  will  you  not? 

Martha  (at  the  door  at  the  right,  without  stirring). — I  only  wanted 
to  ask  your  betrothed  another  question. 

Karl  Eaon. — Well,  that  is? 

Martha. — She  failed  to  answer,  but  I  read  it  in  her  eyes.  I  congratu- 
late you!  (She  opens  the  door  and  goes  out  slowly.) 

Karl  Eaon  (shakes  his  head  in  amazement.) — Do  you  understand 
that? 

Hermine. — I  believe  I  do. 

Karl  Eaon  (impatiently). — Well,  I  don't. 

Hermine  (leans  her  back  against  the  sofa  table] . — Did  you  hear  what 
Martha  called  me? 

Karl  Egon. — No,  what  in  the  world  did  she  call  you? 

Hermine. — Your  betrothed,  that's  what  she  called  me. 

Karl  Egon  (restlessly). — Well,  aren't  you?  Haven't  you  become 
that  today?  Hermine!  For  heaven's  sake !  Is  the  game  to  begin  anew 
again? 

Hermine  (calm  and  determined). — Good,  I  will  yield.  I  will  be 
yours.  But  I  lay  down  one  condition. 

Karl  Egon. — Condition !  Condition !  Haven't  you  tormented  me 
enough  already.  Don't  you  see  that  I  can  hardly  bear  it  any  longer? 

Hermine. — I  lay  down  one  condition,  Egon! 

Karl  Egon. — Well,  in  heaven's  name,  that  is? 

Hermine. — That  you  go  out  into  the  world  with  me.  That  we  do 
not  sit  down  here  in  solitude  with  these  peasants. 

Karl  Egon  (starts  up,  controls  himself). — It's  your  pleasure  to  jest. 

Hermine. — No,  no,  Egon.  Promise  me  that.  Promise  me  that ! 
Think  of  it,  I  am  to  give  up  my  beautiful,  blissful  Bohemian  life  in  order  to 


MAX  HALBE  77 

bury  myself  here?  I  am  to  desert  my  entertaining,  funny,  crazy  people  in 
order  to  hear  your  frogs  croak  here?  No,  no!  I  believe  I  should  die  of 
ennui  I 

Karl  Eg  on  (has  gone  up  and  down  excitedly,  stops). — So  you  really 
haven't  enough  yet?  The  whirl  is  to  begin  anew? 

H ermine. — Come  along,  Egon!  Come  along!  You  will  not  regret 
it.  It  is  a  wonderful  world.  You  do  not  know  it.  One  person  always 
more  perverse  than  the  other!  You  will  find  out  something! 

Karl  Egon  (comes  toward  her] . — Hermine,  recall  what  you  promised 
me  this  morning.  What  we  agreed  upon. 

Hermine. — Oh,  you  child,  nothing  at  all  was  agreed  upon.  You  only 
imagine  that. 

Karl  Egon  (excited}. — Hermine,  I  surely  still  have  my  five  senses! 
(Stands  immediately  before  her  and  embraces  her.}  Did  I  not  hold  you 
in  my  arms  as  I  do  now?  Didn't  you  kiss  me  as  you  do  now?  (He 
presses  her  up  to  him  and  kisses  her.} 

Hermine  (resisting}. — Why,  don't! Why,  don't! 

Karl  Egon  (speaking  intently  to  her}. — Didn't  you  promise  me  then, 
you  will  stay  with  me  and  be  mine? 

Hermine  (likewise  excited}. — Oh,  yes!  be  yours!  Be  yours!  But 
not  here!  Out  yonder!  (Enticingly.}  Back  of  the  forests,  you  know! 

Karl  Egon  (tries  to  kiss  her  again}. — Did  I  only  dream  all  of  that? 
Look  at  me,  Hermine ! 

Hermine  (extricates  herself  from  him  quickly}. — Don't  come  at  me 
with  force  again,  darling!  Or  I  shall  have  to  say  yes  again  to  everything 
that  you  demand  and  you  will  be  angry  then,  if  I  cannot  keep  it  later  on. 

Karl  Egon. — In  other  words  then,  I  took  you  unawares  this  morning? 
You  have  given  me  no  promise?  You  nodded  to  everything  simply  to  be 
rid  of  me? 

Hermine. — Oh,  you  stupid  thing,  who  wants  to  be  rid  of  you?  Am 
I  not  trying  rather  to  hold  to  you,  oh,  so  firmly,  and  carry  you  with  me? 
See  here,  lover,  this  afternoon  when  you  were  gone,  I  took  a  long,  long 
walk 

Karl  Egon. — Weren't  you  out  on  horseback? 

Hermine  (sits  down}. — No,  it  was  my  fixed  intention  to  walk.  On 
horseback  everything  looks  so  very  different,  so  festal,  so  in  its  holiday 
aspect.  But  I  just  wanted  to  make  a  thorough  test  of  how  things  look  here 
at  your  home  in  their  everyday  surroundings.  For  you  in  the  country  have 
nothing  but  everyday  life. 


7  8  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Karl  Egon. — Of  course  we  don't  have  as  many  holidays  as  you  and 
your  good  fellows. 

Hermine  (with  animation). — You  see,  and  holidays  I  need  so  impera- 
tively! I  am  so  afraid  of  everyday  existence!  Why,  that  is  all  the  fear 
I  have.  And  so  for  that  reason  I  walked  through  the  village  and  beyond 
out  into  the  fields. 

Karl  Egon  (in  intense  suspense). — Well,  and  how  did  you  feel  out 
there?  Wasn't  it  fine  to  be  alone  in  the  wide  expanse? 

Hermine. — Yes,  I  was  glad,  when  I  was  finally  out  of  the  village.  I 
saw  so  many  little  children  and  such  ugly  old  women.  And  the  wretched 
huts,  and  the  filth  everywhere !  Heavens ! 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  what  in  the  world  did  I  say  to  you?  Is  it  not  a 
mission  to  bring  about  a  change  there  at  last?  Make  human  beings  of  all 
of  these  pack  animals  and  breeding  machines?  A  mission  that  is  really 
worth  while? 

Hermine. — But  not  for  me.  I  don't  like  to  touch  filth.  You  get 
your  gloves  dirty. 

Karl  Egon. — And  how  was  it  out  in  the  fields?  I  trust  that  was 
better,  wasn't  it? 

Hermine. — At  first,  yes.  I  walked  and  walked.  But  then  I  was 
suddenly  seized  by  a  vague  fear,  such  a  fear  of  myself,  and  it  became 
stronger  and  stronger. 

Karl  Egon. — But  where  did  it  come  from? 

Hermine. — It  came  from  the  terrible  solitude !  From  the  horrible 
stillness!  One  can  hear  his  blood  pulsate.  One  can  hear  himself  think. 
Horrible !  I  simply  ran  off,  and  was  even  glad  when  I  was  in  the  village 

again  and  saw  the  little  children  and  the  old  women What  do  you 

say  to  that? 

Karl  Egon  (in  strong  emotion,  gives  a  short  laugh) . — Hm,  of  course 
that  is  bad!  Very  bad! 

Hermine  (breathes  with  relief) . — Isn't  it  true,  I  am  not  fashioned  for 
solitude?  You  see  that  for  yourself,  surely? 

(KARL  EGON  goes  to  and  fro  silently  struggling  with  himself.) 

Hermine  (jumps  up  and  runs  to  him). — And  you  aren't  either,  my 
darling!  You  aren't  either!  It  would  be  as  much  of  a  misfortune  for 
you  as  for  me. 

Karl  Egon  (pensively). — Do  you  think  so?     Do  you  suppose  so? 

Hermine  (leaning  against  him,  looks  up  at  him). — Quite  certainly. 
As  certainly  as  that  I  love  you ! 

Karl  Egon. — Do  you  really?     Sometimes  I  have  my  doubts  in  a  way. 


MAX  HALBE  79 

H ermine  (nestles  up  to  him}. — Come  along,  Egon!  Come  along  I 
Don't  you  see  how  fortune  and  happiness  are  beckoning  to  you?  (She 
looks  at  him  enticingly  and  points  to  the  outside.} 

Karl  Egon  (seizes  her  hand  passionately}. — Don't  forsake  me,  Her- 
mine!  Don't  forsake  me.  I  need  you  here.  Aren't  you  to  help  me? 
Without  you,  possibly  I  cannot  ever  accomplish  what  I  wish  to. 

Hermine. — I  want  to  help  you,  but  not  here.  Out  there !  Out  there 
beyond  the  forest.  You  certainly  deserve  a  better  fate  than  to  train  dirty 
peasants  to  the  use  of  soap. 

Karl  Egon. — I  have  only  one  fear  here,  Hermine 

Hermine  (quickly} . — Of  what?  Tell  me.  Now  I  know  that  I  have 
you  and  shall  keep  you. 

Karl  Egon. — I  am  afraid  of  becoming  like  my  fathers,  like  my  neigh- 
bors and  all  of  these  people.  Of  becoming  common  and  commonplace. 
That  rises  from  the  soil  like  the  "mist  of  the  meadow,  it  enfolds  one  as  in 
a  shroud,  so  one  loses  his  path  and  miserably  perishes  in  the  morass!  I 
am  afraid  of  that. 

Hermine. — You  see !  You  see !  And  you  expect  me  not  to  be  afraid 
of  it? 

Karl  Egon. — Why,  you  bring  in  so  much  fresh  and  new  blood.  You 
can  never  be  infected  by  it.  For  that  reason  I  need  you,  for  that  reason  I 
cling  to  you !  Don't  abandon  me  to  my  fate,  Hermine  I  Do  not  let  me 
become  like  the  rest! 

Hermine. — I'll  draw  you  out  with  me ;  out  of  all  the  mists.  I'll  draw 
you  out  with  me. 

Karl  Egon  (without  listening  to  her}. — I  will  offer  you  all  that  you 
would  have  out  there,  and  more.  See, — I  have  come  from  Danzig. 
Everything  is  in  order,  everything  is  under  way.  You  will  have  a  home 
such  as  you  can  never  have  in  your  present  world,  such  a  one  as  is  not  to 
be  found  far  and  wide.  I'll  care  for  you  to  the  point  of  pampering.  And 
we  shall  not  be  without  people,  if  we  desire  them. 

Hermine  (passionately}. — You  offer  me  a  home  and  a  castle  if  I 
remain.  And  I  offer  you  myself  if  you  will  follow  me.  What  is  worth 
more?  I  say  to  you,  Accept  me!  Accept  me!  Make  me  your  beloved! 
Do  with  me  whatever  you  please!  I  want  nothing  but  you.  I  want  to 
make  you  happy  as  no  human  being  ever  has  been  happy.  But  go  with 
me !  Go  with  me  !  (She  embraces  him  wildly.} 

Karl  Egon  (seizes  his  head,  reeling}  . — Hermine Hermine ! 

Hermine   (compelling}. — Say  yes!     Say  yes! 


8o  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

(KARL  EGON  stands  in  a  very  violent  struggle,  tries  to  speak,  but  can- 
not.) 

Hermine  (spreads  out  her  arms}. — Are  you  dizzy,  dearest?  Come! 
Kiss  me!  You  have  said  yes! 

Karl  Egon  (one  step  backward,  speaks  in  violent  starts}. — I  cannot, 
and  I  cannot,  and  I  cannot  I 

Hermine  (bounds  of,  almost  screaming}. — Then  stay  where  you  are, 
you  Philistine!  Stay  where  you  are! 

Karl  Egon  (frightened}. — Why,  Hermine,  do  listen  to  reason!  Do 
hear  what  I  have  to  say. 

Hermine. — Don't  go  to  any  further  trouble,  it  is  all  over  between  us ! 

Karl  Egon. — Hermine,  hear  a  single  word !  Why,  I  am  chained 
here  !  Why,  I  am  bound  to  the  place  with  the  strongest  vows.  I  promised 
my  father  in  his  last  hour.  I  should  stand  or  fall  at  my  post ! 

Hermine  (coldly}. — Have  a  carriage  hitched  up.  I  am  going  to 
leave  on  this  evening's  train. 

Karl  Egon  (agitated}. — Hermine,  consider!  There  is  still  time! 
(About  to  seize  her  hand.} 

Hermine  (retreats  in  a  determined  manner}. — Do  not  touch  me! 
You  nauseate  me ! 

Karl  Egon  (beside  himself}. — And  you  claim  to  have  loved  me? 
You  have  played  with  me ! 

Hermine  (steps  up  close  to  him,  with  suppressed  hatred,  almost 
hoarse}. — I  have  offered  myself  to  you and  you you  nauseate  me! 

Karl  Egon  (turns  away  with  a  violent  gesture}. — Then  go!  Then 
go! 

Rathke  (has  already  entered  from  the  right  during  the  last  words,  has 
wavered  a  moment,  now  comes  up,  whispers  half  audibly}. — Mr.  Rosen- 
hagen! Mr.  Rosenhagen! 

(KARL  EGON  stands  there  without  answering.} 

Rathke  (coming  up  closer,  makes  a  gesture  toward  the  outside}. — 
Mr.  Rosenhagen? Mr.  Rosenhagen? 

Karl  Egon  (turning  around,  restraining  his  pain  with  difficulty}. — 
Are  you  back,  Rathke?  What  good  news  are  you  bringing? 

Rathke. — Well,  I  lighted  into  him!  Lighted  into  him!  Now  he 
would  like  to  speak  to  you  once  more ! 

Karl  Egon  (angrily}. — Is  he  crawling  to  cross?  Then  all  the  better 
for  him! 

Rathke. — Pst!  He's  standing  out  there  in  the  corridor!  I  brought 
him  right  along! 


MAX  HALBE  81 

Karl  Egon  (in  wild  joy] . — He's  coming  just  at  the  right  time  for  me  I 
Just  right! 

Rathke. — Now,  don't  you  give  in,  Mr.  Rosenhagen!  For  heaven's 
sake  don't  you  give  in  I 

Karl  Egon  (as  before] . — Just  send  him  in ! 

Hermine  (has  withdrawn  up  to  the  door  at  the  left}. — And  have  a 
carriage  hitched  up,  Rathke.  I  am  going  away  this  evening. 

Rathke  (quite  perplexed). — It  isn't  possible? 

Karl  Egon  (curtly). — Do  as  Miss  Diesterkamp  orders. 

Hermine. — In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  I  shall  be  ready!  Hurry  a  bit! 
My  time  here  has  come  to  an  end!  (She  goes  out  with  a  short  bow.) 

Rathke  (looks  after  her,  scratches  his  head). — Well,  am  I  really  to 
have  them  hitched  up,  Mr.  Rosenhagen? 

Karl  Egon  (gloomily). — Are  you  deaf,  Rathke? Can't  you 

hear  what  you  are  ordered  to  do? 

Rathke. — Why,  Miss  Diesterkamp  isn't  going  away  for  good? 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  for  good!  And  now  see  that  you  send  Voss  in  to 
me  !  I  am  just  in  a  humor  to  settle  with  him. 

Rathke  (shaking  his  head). — Well,  I  do  say!  I  do  say!  (He  goes 
out  through  the  rear  door  at  the  right,  and  leaves  the  door  open.) 

(KARL  EGON  goes  up  and  down  in  wild  excitement,  struggling  for  self- 
control.) 

(Voss  enters  through  the  open  door,  shy  and  sinister,  remains  stand- 
ing, seems  to  be  hunting  for  something  to  say.) 

Karl  Egon   (turns  around  brusquely). — Are  you  here? 

Voss  (getting  out  his  words  slowly) . — Yes,  your  overseer  told  me  that 
you  wanted  to  speak  to  me! 

Karl  Egon  (gives  a  short  laugh). — I  to  you?  No!  If  you  have 
nothing  to  say  to  me,  you  might  have  spared  yourself  the  trouble !  Then 
we  are  through  before  we  have  begun! 

7^055  (closes  the  door  behind  him  and  comes  up  closer) . — I  have  heard 
from  your  overseer  that  you  have  documents  in  regard  to  my  meadow  land. 

Karl  Egon. — That's  correct. 

^055. — All  at  once,  that  is  supposed  not  to  belong  to  me it  is  sup- 
posed to  belong  to  the  community ? 

Karl  Egon. — That  too  is  correct,  as  the  documents  demonstrate ! 

Voss. — Now  I  suppose  you  are  going  into  court  to  sue  me  and  force 
me  to  return  the  land  to  the  community? 

Karl  Egon. — I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  that. 


82  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

Voss  (craftily}. — And  if  the  community  wins,  then  I  suppose  you 
intend  to  buy  the  meadow  land  from  it? 

Karl  Egon. — I  don't  owe  you  any  information  on  that  point. 

Voss. — May  I  take  a  look  at  the  documents? 

Karl  Egon. — The  portfolio  is  there  on  the  table. 

Voss  (slowly  goes  to  the  table  in  the  center}. — If  you  will  put  it  into 
my  hands  at  all  ? 

Karl  Egon. — Why  not,  pray  tell? 

Voss  (with  a  short  burst  of  laughter} . — Why,  I  might  take  the  whole 
mess  and  tear  it  up  from  end  to  end. 

Karl  Egon  (laughing}. — That  would  help  you  desperately  little. 
All  these  are  merely  copies.  The  originals  are  safely  deposited  in  the 
court  house. 

Voss. — Well,  then  I  can  safely  take  them. 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  and  for  all  I  care,  tear  them  up.  The  facts  will 
remain  none  the  less. 

(Voss  opens  the  portfolio,  turns  the  leaves  a  bit,  begins  to  read.} 

(KARL  EGON  goes  to  and  fro  with  quick  steps,  entirely  engrossed  in 
his  thoughts  and  pays  no  attention  to  Voss.) 

(Voss  becomes  restless  after  reading  a  few  moments,  quickly  turns 
the  leaves,  reads  again,  closes  the  portfolio  violently,  throws  it  on  the  table 
in  excitement  which  he  can  scarcely  control,  without  being  able  to  utter  a 
word.} 

Karl  Egon  (looks  up,  notices  Voss's  emotion,  comes  closer  to  him} . — 
Well,  my  dear  fellow,  what  do  you  say  now?  Are  you  satisfied? 

Voss  (blurting  out}. — The  whole  thing  is  forgery!  Nothing  but 
forgery ! 

Karl  Egon. — Ah!  Ah!  My  revered  friend — Go  slowly.  You  are  in 
my  house  at  present !  Remember  that ! 

Voss  (trembling  with  rage}. — And  I  say  a  hundred  times  over,  that 
must  be  forgery!  Surely  my  grandfather  was  not  able  to  steal  a  whole 
tract  of  land  from  the  community.  That  is  a  lie ! 

Karl  Egon. — But  he  did  nevertheless!  He  made  use  of  the  good 
opportunity  at  the  time  of  the  French  occupation.  You  see,  people  who 
live  in  glass  houses  should  not  throw  stones!  Hereafter  sweep  before 
your  own  door  instead  of  maligning  my  family! 

Voss  (in  a  violent  struggle,  with  constrained  voice}. — And  so  you  are 
going  to  make  use  of  that  now? 

Karl  Egon. — Yes,  if  you  don't  yield  in  kindness,  I  will  make  use  of  it ! 

Voss. — And  if  you  win,  you  probably  think  I  am  lost  ? 


MAX  HALBE  83 

Karl  Egon. — You  may  answer  that  for  yourself. 

^055. — Do  you  know  what  your  overseer  said  to  me  a  bit  ago  ? 

Karl  Egon. — How  am  I  to  know  that? 

Foss. — You  have  my  death  warrant  in  your  hands,  that's  what  he  said. 

Karl  Egon.— Well  then  1 

Foss  (threatening  in  a  sinister  manner}. — Who  knows  whose  death 
warrant  that  is? 

Karl  Egon. — Do  you  possibly  think  I  am  afraid  of  you?  From  now 
on  the  issue  is:  You  or  I.  I  made  friendly  advances  to  you.  You  have 
declined  all  of  them.  You  have  driven  me  to  this  point.  So  don't  com- 
plain! 

Foss. — Why,  you  are  the  real  son  of  your  father.  You  do  not  bear 
your  name  in  vain. 

Karl  Egon. — I  am  proud  of  that ! 

Foss  (hoarsely}. — How  is  it  written 1  shall  punish  you  down  to 

the  seventh  generation! 

Karl  Egon. — For  the  last  time,  man,  take  counsel  with  yourself !  But 
make  it  short!  Make  it  short!  I  shall  wait  no  longer. 

Foss. — I'll  make  it  as  short  as  I  can! 

Karl  Egon. — For,  if  you  don't  open  the  meadow  road  by  to-morrow 
morning,  I  shall  have  the  turnpike  opened  by  force.  Force  against  force. 

Foss. — Force  against  force  ? Hm,  hm ! 

Karl  Egon — Yes !     You  or  I !     The  account  is  exhausted ! 

Foss  (scrutinizes  him  with  a  long  look}. — The  account  is  exhausted! 
All  right!  All  right!  (Goes  out  at  the  right  with  bowed  head,  meets 
MARTHA  in  the  door.  The  two  stand  face  to  face  for  a  moment,  look 
into  each  other's  eyes,  and  are  silent.  Then  Voss  goes  out.} 

Martha  (runs  to  KARL  EGON  in  feverish  anxiety}. — Be  careful, 
Karl !  Be  careful !  There  was  something  in  his  face 

Karl  Egon. — Now  it  is  coming  to  pass  as  my  father  predicted!  It's 
life  or  death !  Now  I  feel  well  again ! 

Martha. — You  provoked  him  terribly.  Look  out  for  him !  Do  not 
trust  him !  Do  not  trust  him ! 

Karl  Egon. — It's  all  the  same,  whatever  happens!  I  can  face  the 
worst!  And  if  I  must  fall  this  minute !  All  the  better!  All  the  better! 

Martha. — Now  do  not  talk  that  way !  Do  not  talk  that  way !  When 

I  imagine  that  something  is  going  to  happen  to  you !  (Struggling 

with  herself.}  And  I ?  And  I ? 

Karl  Egon  (to  himself  in  wild  pain} . — Mad  fool  that  you  are  !  Con- 
ceited enough  to  believe  that  you  can  live  your  life  according  to  your  own 


84  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

plan!  Can  allow  the  past  to  remain  buried!  Fool!  Fool!  To  this 
place  you  are  forged!  To  this  place  you  are  rooted!  You  are  to  crawl  in 
the  dust  like  your  fathers.  You  are  doomed  to  be  commonplace  all  of  your 
life !  That  is  the  heritage  that  you  have  bequeathed  to  me ! 

Martha  (has  struggled  with  herself  intensely,  collects  herself}. — 
Karl,  I  must  tell  you  something.  Listen  to  me. 

Karl  Egon  (without  heeding  her}. — Good!  You  are  to  have  your 
way.  I  am  not  better  than  you !  I  am  a  Rosenhagen  and  that  I  must 
remain !  The  devil  take  it !  Then  I  will  be  it  through  and  through. 

Martha  (touches  his  arm}. — Listen  to  me,  Karl!  I  must  tell  you 
something  about  myself. 

Karl  Egon  (looks  up} . — What  do  you  want?     Let  me  alone  ! 

Martha. — No,  I  shall  not.  You  are  to  know  what  I  have  done. 
Then  do  with  me  what  you  will ! 

Karl  Egon  (to  himself,  as  if  far  away} . — I  want  to  prove  to  you  that 
I  am  of  your  grain !  You  are  to  be  delighted  with  me ! 

Martha. — Listen  to  me,  Karl.  You  don't  know  how  bad  and  tricky 
I  am.  Why,  it  was  I  who  incited  Voss  this  morning !  I  incited  him  against 
you !  I  told  him  of  your  plan  in  regard  to  the  castle  and  all  the  rest  and 
incited  him  to  anger !  I  am  to  blame,  do  you  hear,  I  am  to  blame  if  any- 
thing happens  to  you ! 

Karl  Egon  (looks  at  her  with  wide  open  eyes}. — Martha 

Martha ? 

Martha  (with  a  sad  smile}. — Do  you  now  believe  what  a  despicable 
creature  I  am?  You  probably  never  had  an  idea  of  that? 

Karl  Egon  (as  if  confused}. — Why  did  you  do  that,  Martha? 

Martha  (forcing  her  words,  spasmodically}. — Because  I  was  envious 

of  Hermine's  good  fortune ! Because  I  was  fighting  for  happiness 

and  home  and  all ! Because  I  could  not  bear  the  thought  that  you 

that  you  are  choosing  another,  and  that  I  must  go  away  from  you !  Now 
you  know  it !  Now  do  with  me  what  you  will !  What  you  will ! 

Karl  Egon  (as  if  stunned}. — Is  that  the  state  of  affairs? — —  Of 
course,  I  did  not  know  that. 

Martha. — Now  cast  me  out !  Now  cast  me  out !  That  is  all  I've 
deserved. 

Karl  Egon  (slowly  takes  several  steps,  deeply  engrossed  in  thought}. 
— Of  course  I  did  not  know  that.  That  is  different. 

Martha. — Do  you  see  now,  whom  you  have  had  near  you?!  That 
is  the  Rosenhagens'  reward  for  taking  me  into  their  house !  That  is  the 
way  I  repay  you  I 


MAX  HALBE  85 

Karl  Egon  (stands  erect,  gloomy  and  calm}. — Go  now!  Leave  me 
alone  1 

Martha  (in  extreme  anxiety}. — Karl! Karl! 

Karl  Egon  (rising  to  full  stature}. — Go!  I  tell  you.  I  want  to  be 
alone  in  my  house  and  on  my  soil. 

Martha  (broken}. — Then  I  wish  you  all all  the  good  that  fate 

can  bestow. 

Karl  Egon. — My  fate  now  grows  out  of  this  earth,  upon  which  I  was 
planted  by  my  fathers.  It  will  be  fulfilled,  this  way  or  that! 

Martha  (in  a  low  voice}. — Farewell! 

Karl  Egon  ( turns  away  ) . — Go  ! 

Martha  (slowly  goes  through  the  hall,  suddenly  stumbles  back,  since 
she  'vaguely  sees  a  form  appear  near  the  garden  fence  out  in  the  moonlight, 
cries  out  half  audibly } . — Merciful  God ! Merciful  God ! 

Karl  Egon  (who  stands  with  his  back  toward  her,  looks  around}. — 
What  ails  you? What  else  do  you  want? 

Martha  (tries  to  control  herself}. — It  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  heard 
something  outside. 

Karl  Egon. — That  is  probably  the  carriage  that  is  driving  up. 

(MARTHA  runs  to  the  glass  door  in  extreme  haste  and  starts  to  close 
it.} 

Karl  Egon  (approaches  in  surprise}. — What  are  you  doing  there? 
Why,  leave  the  door  open!  It  is  sultry. 

Martha  (tries  to  hide  her  anxiety}. — I  don't  know  why  I  am  so 
afraid.  The  moon  is  shining  so  brightly.  Hadn't  I  better  close  the  door? 

Karl  Egon. — No,  leave  it  open.  My  head  burns  like  fire !  I  must 
have  air!  (He  has  also  gone  to  the  door,  opens  it  wide,  without  looking 
out  as  yet.) 

Martha  (with  choking  voice). — Don't  you  see?!  Some  one  is  stand- 
ing out  in  the  garden  near  the  foot-bridge!  Don't  you  see? 

Karl  Egon  (turns  around  suddenly,  takes  a  step  forward). — I  say! 
Who  is  out  there?  Who  is  standing  in  the  garden?  Hello  there! 
Answer!  (Short  pause.  All  is  quiet.  One  sees  a  figure  standing  in  the 
garden  near  the  foot-bridge.} 

Martha  (screaming}. — That  is  Voss  ! That  is  Voss! 

Karl  Egon  (again  advances  a  step,  close  up  to  the  steps,  with  a  loud 
voice} . — I  want  to  know  who  is  standing  out  there  in  the  garden?  Answer ! 

Martha  (in  extreme  fear}. — Save  yourself,  Karl!     Save  yourself! 

Karl  Egon  (firmly  and  in  a  loud  voice} . — I  am  not  going  to  run  away 


86  THE  ROSENHAGENS 

from  Voss!      (He  calls  over.)     Are  you  out  there,  Voss?     What  business 
have  you  in  the  garden  ?     Go  home  1 

Martha. — Merciful  God! I  see  something  flash  in  the  moon- 
light!    Now    he's    taking    aim Merciful    God!      (She    tries    to 

embrace  him  in  order   to   protect   him,  is    thrust   back    by  him  and  leans 
against  the  door  post.) 

Karl  Egon  (has  stepped  close  to  the  edge  of  the  steps,  calls  over). — 

Shoot,  Voss,  if  you  have  the  courage ! Here  stands  the  last  Rosen- 

hagen!     Shoot  1      (He  stands  upright.     At  the  next  moment  a  shot  is 
heard. ) 

Karl   Egon  (seizes    his    breast,  staggers    back). — That    hit the 

mark!      (He  sinks  down  on  the  top  step.) 

Foss's    Voice  (from    the   garden). — Force     against     force!      The 
account  was  exhausted!      (He  walks  away  slowly.) 

Martha  (stoops  over  KARL  EGON). — Dear  Karl! My   only! 

Do  not  die !     Do  not  die  I     Am  I  to  bear  the  blame  for  your  death?  1 

Rathke  (rushes  in  with  stifled  shouts). — Why,  no  one  else  but  Voss 
has  done  that! I'll  strangle  that  dog! 

Martha   (beside  herself). — To    the    doctor,  Rathke! To  the 

doctor!     Have  them  dash  along  as  fast  as  you  can! 

Rathke  (grumbling). — Such  a  dog! Such  a  dog!      (He  goes 

out  with  bowed  head.) 

Martha  (tries  to  stop  the  blood  with  her  kerchief). — Karl,  are  you 
suffering?     Why,  the  doctor  will  come  soon! 

Karl  Egon   (shakes  his  head,  breathes  heavily). — No  doctor! 

It  is over ! Where  is  Hermine  ? 

Martha   (desperately). — Look  at  me,  my  only  I     Why  I  am  with 
you! 

Karl  Egon. — Where  is  Hermine? 

Hermine  (comes  in  quickly  in  her  traveling  gown). — What  has  hap- 
pened?      What  has  happened? (She  shrieks.)      Egon! 

Egon! (She  totters  over  to  him.) 

Martha  (with  an  effort). — Hermine  is  here  now! 

Karl  Egon. — Where  are  you,  Hermine?     I  do  not  see  you! 

Hermine  (kneels  down  beside  him). — Why,  I  am  here!    Close  beside 
you! Don't  you  recognize  me,  my  darling? 

Karl  Egon  (weak). — Lay  your  hand  on  my  brow ! 

Hermine  (shaken  with  emotion). — Dearest,  forgive  me!     I  was  not 
worth  it!     Forgive  me! 

Karl  Egon  (holds  her  hand  firmly) . — It  is  well  I 


MAX  HALBE  87 

Martha  (straightens  up,  steps  aside}. — I  am  nothing  to  him! 

He  does  not  care  about  me ! 

Madam  Rosenhagen  (totters  in,  remains  standing,  without  tears}. — 
Boy! Boy! 

Karl  Egon  (rises  up  in  a  last  struggle,  looks  at  the  old  woman  with 

eyes  wide  open}. — Grandmother,  you  here  too? Do  you  see  the 

beautiful  evening  star  that  is  setting  there? Shall  I  take  it  your  greet- 
ing? (He  sinks  back  and  dies.} 

Madam  Rosenhagen. — Now  he  has  gone  ahead  to  arrange  for 
quarters. 

Curtain. 


THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  THE  SATYR 

Translated  from  the  Portuguese  of  Eugenio  de  Castro 
by  E.  W.  Olmsted  and  F.  D.  Burnet 

PREFATORY  NOTE 

About  forty  years  ago  (March  4,  1869)  in  the  old  university  town  of 
Coimbra,  Portugal,  Eugenio  de  Castro  was  born.  His  family  was  of 
noble  lineage,  and  for  generations  had  been  distinguished  in  the  field  of 
letters.  His  home  was  one  of  wealth  and  refinement.  As  one  of  the 
professors  of  the  University  of  Coimbra  (Manuel  da  Silva  Gayo,  to  whom 
I  am  indebted  for  many  of  the  facts  mentioned  in  this  note),  himself  a 
writer  of  charming  verse  and  prose,  says  of  Eugenio  de  Castro :  "Brincou 
entre  estantes  de  livros,  ouvindo  vozes  calmas,"  "He  played  amongst  books, 
hearing  (only)  the  sound  of  gentle  voices."  The  influence  of  both  heredity 
and  early  training  can  be  seen  in  the  classic  flavor  and  in  the  graceful 
elegance  of  his  verse. 

Like  most  poets  he  began  to  write  early.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  he 
published  the  following  poems:  Crystallisaqoes  da  Morte,  and  Canqoes 
d'Abril,  and  the  next  year  (1885),  Jesus  de  Nazareth.  Even  these  early 
poems  are  not  without  spontaneity  and  charm.  Shortly  after  this  the 
young  poet  left  Coimbra  to  follow  in  Lisbon  o  Curso  superior  de  Lettras, 
and  in  1888  was  for  a  time  on  the  staff  of  the  Dia.  In  1887  he  wrote  Per 
Umbram,  and  in  1888,  Horas  tristes.  In  these  compositions  a  note  of 
greater  personal  emotion  is  struck,  which  is  enhanced  by  more  vivid 
picturesqueness  of  expression.  Towards  the  close  of  1888  the  poet 
returned  to  Coimbra,  and  soon  after  set  out  for  Spain  and  France,  remain- 
ing in  Paris  for  several  months  in  1889.  Upon  his  return  he  was  ap- 
pointed professor  in  the  Escola  "Brotero."  Oaristos  (1890)  and  Horas 
(1891)  date  from  this  epoch  of  his  life.  The  influence  of  his  travels  can 
be  noted  in  these  exquisite  poems,  and  especially  of  his  stay  in  France, 
where  he  came  in  contact  with  the  younger  generation  of  French  poets. 
From  them  he  introduced  symbolism  into  Portugal  and  some  brilliant 
effects  in  verse  technique.  In  1891  he  again  went  to  Lisbon,  where  he 
took  an  active  part  in  the  following  publications,  Antonio-Maria,  Novid- 
ades,  and  the  Jornal  do  Commercio.  One  of  his  most  beautiful  collections 
of  verse,  Sylva  ( 1894),  was  written  at  this  time.  He  returned  to  Coimbra 
in  1894,  which,  after  his  marriage  in  1898,  he  chose  as  the  place  of  his 


EUGENIO  DE  CASTRO  89 

definite  residence.  There,  in  his  home  of  refinement  and  elegance,  to 
which  no  one  could  know  better  than  he  how  to  make  the  stranger  welcome, 
amongst  his  books  and  bibelots,  he  continues  to  divert  himself  and  to  charm 
his  readers  with  the  verses  that  flow  freely  from  his  pen.  Interlunio,  with 
its  pessimistic  motto — "II  faut  pleurer  les  hommes  a  leur  naissance  et  non 
pas  a  leur  mart,"  appeared  in  1894,  and  the  same  year  Belkiss  (prose), 
then  Tiresias  (1895),  Sagramor  (1895),  Salome  e  Outros  Poemas 
(1896),  A  Nereide  de  Harlem  (1896),  O  Rei  Galaor  (1897),  Saudades 
do  Ceo  (1899),  Constanta  (1900),  Depots  de  Ceifa  (1901),  O  Melhor 
Retrato  de  Jodo  de  Dens  (1906),  A  Sombra  do  Quadrante  (1906),  O 
Annel  de  Poly  crates  (1907),  and  A  Fonte  do  Satyro  e  Outros  Poemas 
(1908).  Of  these  later  works  perhaps  Constanta  bears  the  mark  of 
greatest  genius,  and  has  been  most  favorably  received  abroad. 

His  muse  has  run  the  whole  gamut  of  poetic  tones.  "It  has  risen  in 
rebellion  against  accepted  customs,  it  has  scandalized  the  worthy  fathers, 
it  has  been  parnassian  and  has  chiseled  verses  with  polished  skill.  It  has 
been  symbolistic  and  has  felt  the  disturbing  charm  of  voluptuous  vagueness 
and  the  tremulous  restlessness  that  mystery  infuses.  It  knows  the  proud 
limits  of  the  Ivory  Tower.  It  has  run  through  the  ample  course  of  free 
meter.  And  it  has  come  forth  from  these  and  other  adventures,  graceful 
and  elegant,  leaving  everywhere  vestiges  of  the  wealth  of  a  prodigal  genius, 
and  disclosing,  under  the  most  varied  disguises,  the  delicacy  and  distinction 
df  a  noble  soul.  And  that  nothing  may  be  lacking  to  the  personal  expe- 
rience of  the  poet,  he  has  known  how  to  submit  himself  for  some  years  to 
a  purifying  silence.  And  now — now"  the  muse  of  Eugenio  de  Castro  is 
classic,  unfeignedly  classic."  So  speaks  of  the  poet  the  foreigner  who 
knew  him  best  and  loved  him  most,  a  critic  of  rare  literary  insight  and 
versed  in  things  Lusitanian  as  are  few  men  outside  the  limits  of  Portugal. 
I  refer  to  the  late  professor  of  the  University  of  Salamanca,  J.  Nombela 
y  Campos. 

Eugenio  de  Castro  has  remained,  in  spite  of  foreign  influences,  a  poet 
thoroughly  national  in  character,  inheriting  especially  from  Joao  de  Deus 
that  great  lyric's  wonderful  gift  of  "expressing  with  sweet  ingenuousness 
the  passion  of  love,"  a  gift  nowhere  more  admired  or  more  cultivated  than 
in  the  land  of  Camoes,  where  all  the  poets  tell  of  love  with  honeyed  lips. 
By  far  the  most  beautiful  poem  in  the  last  published  collection  of  Eugenio 
de  Castro's  verse  is  upon  this  theme.  It  is  entitled  A  Fonte  do  Satyro. 
The  tale  of  love  embodied  in  the  poem  is  partly  based  on  fact,  but  the 
elegant  treatment  of  the  subject  is  the  poet's  own.  It  is  hoped  that  the 
translation  given  here,  which  follows  as  closely  as  possible  the  meter  and 


9o  THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  THE  SATYR 

stanza  division  of  the  original,  will  give  some  idea  of  its  exquisite  grace 
and  delicacy.  The  English  ten  syllable,  five  stressed  verse  has  been 
chosen  as  the  best  equivalent  of  the  Portuguese  hendecasyllable,  and  the 
rhyme  scheme  aabbcc,  instead  of  the  abcabc  of  the  original  stanzas,  as  the 
couplet  seemed  to  give  the  best  poetic  effect  in  the  English  translation. 

E.  W.  O. 

"And  we  may  say  that  his  prayer  was  continuous,  not  only  because 
he  always  went  about  with  orisons  upon  his  lips,  but  because  of  everything 
he  saw  or  heard  he  knew  how  to  make  a  ladder  by  which  to  ascend  in 
thought  to  God,  ever  considering  God's  creatures  as  a  means  of  knowing 
God,  and  so  he  spoke  of  everything  as  of  a  thing  of  God, — God's  spar- 
rows, God's  grasses,  God's  garments,  everything  in  short  upon  his  lips  was 
of  God,  because  he  did  not  care  for  anything  or  understand  anything  with- 

Fr.  Antonio  da  Encarnagao :  Vida  de  Fr.  Luiz  de  Sousa. 

"The  spring  wells  up  under  an  arch,  which,  formed  of  varied  and 
beautiful  rustic  stone-work,  resembles  a  natural  grotto.  Within  it  is 
seated  a  huge  and  well  carved  satyr,  closely  reproducing  those  that  poetry 

has  imagined This  water  is  received  by  the  pool  that  we  mentioned 

above,  which,  on  the  side  of  the  court,  and  separated  from  it  only  by  a  low 
parapet,  is  on  a  level  with  the  surface  of  the  ground;  and  in  its  depth  and 
breadth  thrive  many  fish,  (that  have  become)  so  tame  in  process  of  time1 
that  they  rise  to  the  hands  of  the  monks  for  the  crumbs  that  each  one  keeps 
for  them,  as  for  their  sure  and  rightful  meal." 

Fr.  Luiz  de  Sousa:  Historia  de  S.  Domingos. 


H 


IS  matin  prayer  with  pious  haste  well  told, 

And  young  in  heart,  tho  time  had  marked  him  old, 

Good  Frei  Luiz  de  Sousa  leaves  the  halls 

Where  sanctity's  confined  chill  appals, 

Content  to  seek  the  garden's  welcome  shade, 

As  lizards,  at  the  dawn,  some  sun  drench'd  glade. 

Fair  gilly-flowers  exhale  the  breath  of  Spring: 
Afar,  slow  wheeling  up  on  lazy  wing, 
A  flock  of  snowy  breasted  doves  a-high 
Gleam  dazzling  white  against  a  sea  blue  sky: 
Vanilla  trees,  with  mingled  roses'  scent, 
Lure  droning  bees,  on  sugared  plunder  bent. 


EUGENIO  DE  CASTRO  91 

Oh!  blest  be  He,  who  grants  such  wealth  of  bloom, 
The  fields  of  golden  wheat,  the  pale  sweet  broom, 
Who  gems  the  sea  with  coral  and  with  pearl, 
Whose  waves  cerulean  silvery  crests  unfurl 
To  kiss  the  stars  that  cheer  the  somber  nights, 
And  kindle  faery  watch  fires  from  far  heights. 

He,  idling,  wanders  on,  then  halts  awhile 
To  dream,  for  there,  full  in  the  orchard  aisle, 
An  orange  tree  with  fruits  in  ripe  accord 
Flames  like  a  thousand  candles  of  the  Lord, 
While  Time,  an  ancient  beadsman  in  his  art, 
Unheeded,  tells  the  winged  hours  apart. 

And  now  at  hand  a  hushed  murmuring  hears, 

A  faint  and  muffled  plashing  as  of  tears 

That  singly  fall  into  the  heedless  seas; — 

A  pool,  nearby,  whose  ruffled  breast  the  breeze 

Has  whipped  to  tiny  wrath.     He  here  breaks  bread 

And  sees  his  finny  wards  rise  to  be  fed. 

O  happy  Friar,  thou  dost  so  live, 
Content  with  gifts  which  Nature  has  to  give, 
Content  as  yonder  bird  or  flowering  rose, 
Who,  reft  of  earthly  shackles,  earthly  woes, 
May  crown  thy  life  with  word  and  deed,  as  gems 
That  grace  the  gold  of  kingly  diadems ! 

Thou  art  no  stranger  to  misfortune's  ills, 

But  now  God's  peace  thy  waning  life  fulfills. 

With  book  and  prayer  thy  days  flow  smooth  and  sure, 

No  more  disturbed  lest  earthly  dreams  allure, 

For  (may  this  knowledge  comfort  some  mad  breast!) 

Rough  paths  of  youth  teach  age  to  cherish  rest. 

Thy  life,  a  prayer;  thy  labor,  and  thy  play, 
Thy  comings  and  thy  goings  through  the  day. 
Thou  seest  Godly  likenesses  unfold 
In  everything  that's  shaped  in  mortal  mold, 
In  golden  words  that  mark  the  inspired  pen, 
In  joyous  birds  and  earth  and  sky  and  men, 


92  THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  THE  SATYR 

In  fields  and  grasses,  herbs  and  rose-strewn  bowers, 
Or  yonder  distant,  mist-wrapped  mountain  towers: 
The  weeping  flute,  to  thee,  a  holy  dirge. 
Oh,  sweet  thy  life,  that  doth  so  purely  merge 
The  God  in  man  with  Nature's  wondrous  leaven, 
Thy  falt'ring  feet  on  earth,  thy  soul,  in  Heav'n. 

— But  now  the  kindly  feast  is  wellnigh  done, 

Yet,  "Brother,  leave  us  not  awhile,"  cries  one 

(For  him,  who  lived  such  simple  things  among, 

Had  Faith  soon  taught  the  "Lesser  Children's"  tongue) 

They  plead,  and  cleave  the  pool's  clear  sapphire  breast, 

Like  sudden  lightnings,  darting  in  the  West. 

And  thus  the  good  man  gently  chides  their  greed, 

"More  patience,  pray,  my  sparrows  too  have  need, 

For  are  we  not  all  fruit  of  one  same  vine? 

As  I  your  brother  am,  so  are  they  mine." 

Then,  at  his  words  fly  down  a  noisy  band, 

To,  fearless,  pluck  the  bread  from  out  his  hand. 

Now  westward  wheels  the  weary  sun  to  rest 

While  nightingales  the  twilight  hours  attest. 

With  lingering  glance  the  Friar  leaves  his  friends, 

Regreets  the  old,  then  to  the  new  descends. 

Before  him,  by  the  lavender's  tall  hedge, 

A  copious  fountain  flows,  'midst  rush  and  sedge: 

The  somber  grotto,  wrapped  in  eery  gloom, 
Green  ivy  decked,  like  death-wreaths  on  a  tomb. 
And  'neath  its  ancient  arch,  in  solemn  state, 
Enthroned  for  ages,  huge,  a  figure  sate, 
A  Satyr,  in  whose  hand  a  brimming  cup 
Dripp'd  as  of  old,  when  Gods  had  paused  to  sup. 

With  twinkling  eyes  and  pricked-up,  pointed  ears, 
Again  the  sound  of  reveling  he  hears 
Afar,  and  sees,  with  burning  glances  bright, 
The  sporting  Naiads,  naked,  take  affright. 
Again  the  Satyr,  warmed  with  memory,  sips 
Wild,  breathless  kisses  from  protesting  lips. 


EUGENIC  DE  CASTRO  93 

The  good  priest  cries:  "What  strange  and  new-found  thing 

Is  this  that  changes  thee?"  and  answering 

The  Satyr  laughs  with  mad,  unholy  glee : 

"All  things  are  fleeting!     Time,  a  mockery! 

The  light  of  Spring  hath  closed  grim  Winter's  sway, 

And  I  am  drunk,  for  Spring  is  born  today!" 

"Hark!     At  the  dawn  the  winds,  those  vagrant  thieves, 

Stole,  laughing,  from  their  dewy  couch  of  leaves: 

The  scent  of  crushed  violets  they  bore, 

As  once,  when  on  the  silvered  waters'  shore 

I  hid,  and  watched  the  Naiads  as  they  gave 

Their  tim'rous  bodies  to  the  sportive  wave!" 

"Now  silence  I"  cries  the  priest.    "Unclean  thy  thought ! 
Forgettest  thou  that  God  Himself  hath  wrought 
This  roof  that  turns  the  ages  from  thy  head? 
Kneel  fearfully  to  Him,  and  ne'er  be  led, 
When,  from  the  depths  of  Hell,  with  longings  vast, 
Well  up  those  siren  voices  of  the  Past. 

"See  I  have  cast  the  erriftg  world  aside, 

And  ta'en  meek  Charity  to  be  my  bride, 

My  lover,  ever  wooing  with  a  love 

Whose  ardor  burns  to  light  my  soul  above: 

Oblivion  bars  my  road  to  memory, 

As  pathless  night  falls  o'er  the  restless  sea." 

A  sudden  keen  emotion  stirs  to  life 

This  thing  of  stone.     "Ah,  how  couldst  thou  the  strife 

And  fire  of  love  forget?"  the  Satyr  said. 

The  priest  cried  out :     "The  one  I  loved  is  dead, 

And  if,  at  times,  my  dreams  her  fair  form  take, 

My  prayers  soon  banish  all  when  I  awake." 

"Thou  call'st  her  dead!     Thy  prayers  have  buried  deep 

The  memory  of  a  maid  who  lives  to  weep 

Alone  in  some  dark  convent's  clammy  cell, 

Alone,  and  silent  'midst  her  living  Hell, 

Whilst  recollection,  sad,  bedewed  with  tears, 

This  azure  hour  evokes  of  fairer  years!" 


94  THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  THE  SATYR 

"When  on  thy  couch,  all  bare,  the  mocking  might 

Of  sleepless  lids  hath  cursed  the  noon  of  night, 

When  winter  winds  have,  shrieking,  wound  their  shroud 

To  swathe  the  shiv'ring  trees  with  death  cold  bowed, 

Do  not,  then,  glorious  visions  daz*zling  rise 

Of  her  dear  face,  her  laughing  mouth,  her  eyes? 

"Doth  not  her  form  oft  set  the  nightly  scene, 
Who  bore  the  witching  name  of  Magdalene? — 
Her  eyes,  more  witching,  gem'd  with  love  lights  rare 
Shone  star-like  in  the  twilight  of  her  hair — 
She  wore  a  woven  rose-wreath  for  a  gird, 
Canst  thou  forget?" — He  answers  now  no  word. 

— Intoxicating  spices  fill  the  breeze, 
The  lofty  beech  and  sighing  laurel  trees 
From  root  to  summit  tremble  as  with  love; 
Whilst  from  the  sun-kissed  tower  a  mating  dove 
Entones  his  song  of  Spring.     Keen  passion  flowers 
Adorn  the  dell  like  gladsome  bridal  bowers. 

Then  Frei  de  Sousa  feels  within  him  stir 
The  long-forgotten  lure  of  things  that  were, 
And,  fearful  that  his  soul  might  not  endure, 
He  plucks  a  lily,  white  and  chastely  pure: 
"Oh,  Queen  of  flowers,  all  Solomon's  array 
Was  but  to  thee  as  night  is  to  the  day!" 

But  now,  upon  the  spotless  lily's  breast 

A  dark  bee  lights,  in  feverish,  eager  quest 

To  woo  its  love.     Then,  wild  before  his  sight, 

The  mem'ry  comes  confused  of  one  mad  night 

Spent  out  with  her,  when  he,  at  dawn,  stooped  low 

To  kiss  the  mole  upon  her  breast  of  snow. 

Frei  Luiz  flees. — The  vespers  call  to  prayer: 
The  low-voiced  drone  of  evening  fills  the  air: 
The  Satyr,  hot,  sees  Nymphs  in  choral  dance 
Slow  fade  away. — All  things  are  giv'n  to  chance, 
All  things  save  love,  the  sweet,  the  fleet,  the  brave, 
That  conquers  men  from  cradle  to  the  grave ! 


TEARS 

"Hettf  lacrymis  infantia  lumina  turgent" 

(FROM  THE  FRENCH  OF  CATULLE  MENDES) 
Translated  by  Roy  Temple  House 

HEN  roses  blossomed,  years  ago, 
My  heart  was  filled  with  childish  woe. 

It  swelled  and  ached,  I  knew  not  why, 
When  lilac-odors  floated  by. 

The  flower-cups  were  rich  and  bright 
And  breathed  a  bitter-sweet  delight. 

The  pale  stars  stood  above  my  head, — 
I  wondered  at  the  tears  I  shed. 

And  now,  alas!  I  sorrow  yet, 

Though  suns  may  rise  and  suns  may  set; 

By  winter,  in  the  frozen  showers, 
In  summer,  over  the  bright  flowers, 

My  salt  tears  fall  and  find  no  pause: 
But  now — but  now  I  know  the  cause  I 


95 


T 


NIGHTFALL 

BY  WlLHELMINA  K.  BAILEY 

OO  soon  the  Day  hath  her  departure  ta'en, 
Leaving  o'erturned  the  sky's  great  urn  of  blue 
Drained  of  its  mystic  draught  of  golden  hue. 
On  her  bright  lips  I  see  a  ruddy  stain 
That  from  her  Bacchic  madness  doth  remain; 
But  she,  intoxicate,  doth  never  rue 
Her  raptures,  and  refreshed  with  dew 
Speeds  on,  the  joy  of  living  to  maintain. 

Only  her  laughter  hath  she  left  behind, 

A  trail  of  glowing  joy  low  in  the  west; 

Warm  golden  bars  hold  it  enshrined 

Above  a  sea  of  molten  red,  caressed 

By  chastened  greens  and  azure,  shot  and  lined 

With  purple,  veiling  all  the  hills  for  rest. 


96 


Date  Due 


PRINTED  IN   U.S.A. 


CAT.   NO.   24    161 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     001  040  406     9 


